


More Light Than Heat

by wordsmith_kari



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Act Your Age (Phineas and Ferb), Demisexual Phineas, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Growing Up, Sort of a love triangle but not really, slow burn i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsmith_kari/pseuds/wordsmith_kari
Summary: The hard part about maintaining friendships with people you grew up with is that they don't always allow you to grow up.  Isabella's crush on Phineas is long gone, but no one seems to accept that.  So she comes up with a solution: pretend to date Phineas, let it seem like the relationship has run its course, and move on with her life.  At the end of the summer, everything goes back to normal.  But it's possible she didn't think this through.Phineas agrees, because he'd do just about anything for Isabella, but the whole charade forces him to confront some hard truths about himself that he's not sure he's ready for.Ferb has been waiting for this since they were ten, and he wants nothing more than for Phineas and Isabella to be happy.  But standing on the sidelines is getting harder when what he wants is the only thing he can't have.Meanwhile, Candace comes home to plan her wedding to Jeremy...and might know a little more than any of them are comfortable with.
Relationships: Candace Flynn/Jeremy Johnson, Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn, Ferb Fletcher/Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, Phineas Flynn & Isabella Garcia-Shapiro
Comments: 99
Kudos: 172





	1. Isabella Has a Brilliant Idea

Isabella knew she was luckier than most, especially leaving her sophomore year of college. Not only did she have the best mom ever, she’d managed to maintain close friendships with the kids she’d grown up with.

Now if only they would let her grow up.

“Yeah. There’s this guy in my Russian class, and I really think…”

“Aww, don’t talk like that Chief. Crumb Cake will come around.”

“I don’t know if--”

“He _will_.”

She sighed. “Thanks Millie.”

She’d tried to have this conversation a lot over the last five years, and it always ended up like this. Her girls, endlessly supportive, insisting that she couldn’t give up, that Phineas would get his head out of the clouds and _finally_ notice her. And Isabella, now 19, a top student with the record for most Fireside Girl patches earned in a career and rising star of her college soccer team, couldn’t convince them it wasn’t what she wanted any more.

It was almost enough to put a damper on her summer vacation.

Almost.

“My boys!” she exclaimed, flinging her dorm room door inward. Phineas stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Izzy!” he giggled as he lifted her off the ground. When he pulled back, Ferb was standing behind him with an outstretched fist and a ray gun in the other.

“Oh no you don’t,” Isabella said, surging forward to hug him too. He smiled, softly tipping an imaginary hat when she pulled back.

“It’s good to see you too!”

He gestured that she should stand back and then pointed the shrink ray at the pile of boxes in the center of the room. Once they were the size of a stack of books, Phineas pulled a reusable shopping bag from his pocket and piled them in.

“Ah. I love when you break the laws of physics.”

“Well, everyone loves a bad boy.”

“Yep,” Phineas said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. “That’s how Ferb gets all the girls.”

“The accent doesn’t hurt either.”

Ferb said nothing, just swept his arm out in invitation. Isabella passed him, dropped her keys off at the desk, and then stepped into the open air where his car was waiting. She slid into the passenger’s seat without hesitation as Ferb took the driver’s seat.

“I can’t wait to see what mods you do this summer.”

“Actually, Ferb’s got a different project this summer,” Phineas said, crawling into the backseat.

“It’s just a different car,” he said with a shrug, turning the key and checking his mirrors.

“Are you finally getting one, Phin?”

He chuckled. “God, no. When Ferb’s sick of driving me everywhere, I’m moving to a place with excellent public transit. Or, you know. Bad public transit I can make excellent.”

“State has that, but I still sometimes wish I had a car so I could go to other places.”

“Pretty sure Ferb’s always happy to take you too,” Phineas said, his grin wide enough to split his face.

The smile on Ferb’s echoed the sentiment, and Isabella punched his arm lightly.

“Sure, but where was he at two a.m. last week when I was panicking over my lit final?”

Ferb took his eyes off the road for just a moment to raise a brow at her. The answer was obvious - a phone call away.

“How _did_ the lit final go?”

Isabella turned in her seat to face him. “It is officially summer vacation, and I am no longer obligated to think about anything school-related.”

“Meaning you’ve submitted your application that’s due next week?”

Phineas’s eyes went wide. “What application?”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“It’s just an application.”

“Our Isabella is applying to be part of an archaeology dig in the fall.”

“That’s awesome! Wait...do you have to be an archeology major for that?”

“Usually, but I took a class this semester and the professor took a liking to me. She said if my application is stellar, she can convince the board to overlook the fact that I’m undeclared.” She shrugged. “I think she’s hoping I”ll choose to major in it.”

“Would you?”

“See, that falls under the list of things I don’t want to think about over summer vacation.”

Phineas’s lips formed a soundless “oh” as he sunk back into his seat. For a while, the only noise in the car was Top40 radio. Then Phineas started to squirm in the back seat.

Ferb smirked. Isabella watched him countdown on his fingers - three, two, and then --

“Okay, but you’ve got to declare eventually--”

“Phineas…” Ferb warned.

“It’s easy for you two. You’ve known what you wanted to do since we were ten. Meanwhile, I want to do _everything_.” She sighed. “Between you two and all those Fireside Girls patches, I think I got spoiled.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Ferb said, shooting Phineas a look through the rearview mirror. “And just because you’re choosing a professional focus doesn’t mean you have to give up everything else.”

“He’s right,” Phineas said, leaning up between their seats. “Ferb and I will always be around to help you make the most of every weekend.”

“And we’ve still got two summers left.”

“See, this is why you two are my favorites. Just don’t tell the girls.”

By the time they pulled into her mother’s driveway, Isabella was barely holding her eyes open, despite the fact that it was only three in the afternoon.

“I could have walked from your house,” she insisted anyway. Ferb shook his head, opening her door for her. Phineas scampered off towards their house, handing Ferb her bag as he went.

“And don’t forget about the party!”

Ferb rolled his eyes. Isabella just smirked.

“He’s your brother.”

“He’s _your_ crush.”

Isabella blinked a few times, her brain a little fuzzy. “Ferb, I--”

He raised an eyebrow.

“What if Phineas and I _aren’t_ meant to be together?”

He patted her shoulder reassuringly. “He’s just not ready yet.”

“Well, I know, but...what if he’s never ready?”

Ferb swallowed. Isabella started to mentally translate from Ferb to verbal, but before she could, he said, firmly, “He will be.”

Her shoulders fell. “Yeah. Okay.” She straightened her shoulders. “Party’s tomorrow, right? So everyone can come?”

Ferb nodded. By now he’d carefully arranged the miniature boxes on her bed.

“Let’s see...these three I won’t need until fall…” She set them on her desk. The others she put in the corner. “Hit it!”

He resized the boxes, then watched her patiently. She yawned.

“I’m good. Gonna take a nap. Thanks for the ride and all.”

He saluted and left her there to sleep. It was still bright out when she woke a few hours later. She rubbed her eyes and scrolled through her missed texts - a few in the Campfire chat about who was coming home and when, an invite to a movie marathon from Phineas, and a picture from Candace. She squealed when she opened it - Candace’s left hand and a diamond ring that definitely wasn’t there the last time she had seen her. She put on a bra, threw her hair into a bun, and marched across the street. Phineas opened the door before she could knock.

“Did you see--”

“Yes!” she squeaked. As they hugged, Ferb appeared behind Phineas, waving to her. She waved back before pulling away. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised it took them this long. But I’m happy for her!”

“She said she wanted to pass the bar first.”

“Does that mean she got her results back? Way to bury the lead!”

“No, no. But you know Candace.”

She did, and she could only imagine the obsessive anxiety she was dealing with, waiting for her score to come back. Wedding planning would be the perfect distraction to get her through.

“It’s gonna be great! We can do a fireworks show and create a biodome so it can be an outdoor ceremony no matter the weather and--”

Ferb met her eye over his brother’s shoulder.

“Let’s wait and see what Candace wants to do,” she said to Phineas, and Ferb smiled appreciatively at her.

“Yeah, yeah, right. We’ll talk to her tomorrow. Movie time?”

“Yes please.”

They were halfway through the second Stinkleberry Finkbat movie when it happened: Ferb stretched, yawned, and waved, leaving them together on the couch as he went upstairs.

“Huh. Ferb never misses the end of the second one. It’s his favorite. I hope he’s okay…”

Isabella rolled her eyes. “He’s fine. He’s leaving us alone so you can suddenly realize you’re madly in love with me and we can start our lives together.”

“He’s--what?”

“You heard me.” Her voice was flat, and her gaze never wandered from the screen, but Phineas turned to stare at her wide-eyed.

“But...but... _why_?”

She sighed. “Because I had a crush on you a million years ago and everyone assumed you’d reciprocate as soon as you matured a little, but no one thought _my_ feelings might change as _I_ matured, and honestly, I’m a little pissed about it.”

“So…” he said slowly. “Just to be clear...you don’t like me anymore? That way?”

“I don’t.”

He sighed in relief. “Good. ‘Cuz...I love you, Izzy, but I don’t think…”

“I know.”

He chuckled. “Kinda funny, though. I mean...we’re _so_ young. If we _had_ dated, no one would have anticipated we’d _last_. So it’s silly that they think your crush should have.”

For a moment, Isabella couldn’t breathe. Then the pieces came together.

“Phineas, you have to date me."

“But you just said…”

“You have to _pretend_ to date me so our relationship can run its course and everyone will let me move on!”

“I don’t--”

“It’s perfect! It will look like I finally got what I wanted and, when it doesn’t work out, oh well, guess it wasn’t a good fit, but now I know, and I can date again without people assuming I’m just giving up on you and--”

“Hang on Isabella...I don’t love the idea of lying to everyone. And I doubt Ferb will be okay with it either.”

“Oh no. You can’t tell Ferb."

“No. No no no. I definitely can’t lie to Ferb.”

“It’s not like it’ll hurt him. He never has to know. And it would mean _so_ much to me. Please Phineas?”

He pursed his lips. When she held her hand out to shake, he eyed it cautiously.

“How long do you want to do this?

“Just until the end of summer. Then everything goes back to normal.”

“And we can be friends like nothing happened? It won’t be weird?”

“I promise.”

He considered it. She slouched.

“ _Please_ Phineas. I need everyone to let this go.”

He sighed. He was still skeptical, but he had a hard time saying no under the best of circumstances. His family, of whom he considered Isabella a part, were impossible to deny.

“All right,” he said, shaking her hand. Her eyes sparkled in the light of the TV screen.

“Great!” she said. “Let’s talk backstory.”


	2. In Every Lie, A Bit of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas tells the family. It goes surprisingly well.

Phineas opened his eyes and then, in the next instant, closed them again.

Normally he was a morning person. And a night owl. And...really, he just preferred anytime he was awake because there was just so much to _do_. But this morning he had that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s not like he hadn’t had them before, or like he was unfamiliar with the string of thoughts cycling through his mind to accompany it, but this time they landed on one he couldn’t shake.

_I’m lying to everyone and they’re all going to hate me when they find out._

Technically, he tried to reason, he hadn’t lied to anyone yet. But he couldn’t _not_ do it. He’d promised Isabella, and he didn’t want to let her down.

It was the other half of his promise that was making this especially hard. Any other morning, when his brain wouldn’t stop talking and his stomach churned against him, he’d go to Ferb for a dose of common sense and it always fixed him right up. But that would require him to tell Ferb about the whole...arrangement.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “You know Ferb like the back of your hand. What do you _think_ he’d say?”

He heard it as clearly as if his brother had been in the room. _What matters more? The opinions of the faceless masses, or making Isabella happy?”_

“Phineas? Mum wants to know if you’d like pancakes.”

He sat up, the ache in his stomach dulling. “Yes please. I’ll be down in just a sec.”

In five minutes, he’d dressed, brushed his teeth, and made his way to the kitchen table, just in time for his mother to slide a plate in front of him.

“Hey Candace. When’d you get in?”

His sister was too busy flipping through a binder to answer. Linda rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“She came in late last night. Ten, she said.”

“Oh, you must have just missed Isabella.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” she said, reaching for her phone. “I’ll have to find out when she’s free to look at bridesmaids’ dresses. And if she can use her pull at the Fireside Hall to get us a discount. And if she has time to help with the decor or --”

“I thought you planned to use the backyard,” Lawrence interrupted.

“I did, and we’d love to, but I’m a little worried about what happens if it rains.”

Phineas swallowed a bite. “Ferb and I can take care of that.”

Mouth full, Ferb just flashed her a thumbs up.

“All right...but I still need…”

Her voice did the thing where it got all echoey and far away again. Phineas swallowed once more, this time just air, and tried to concentrate. He and Isabella had talked about this, but he had no idea how to feign nonchalance here. He cleared his throat.

“Uh...speaking of Isabella…” He breathed out slowly. He actually had no idea if she’d still been talking about Isabella or not. “I, umm...have news.”

With his whole family staring at him, he almost chickened out, but Ferb’s voice in his head - _come on, what wouldn’t we do for Isabella? -_ convinced him it would be okay.

“Isabella and I...well, she was over last night, and we talked, and, you know, long story short…” He took a deep breath and then pushed out, “Isabella is my girlfriend now.”

“WHAT?”

And now everyone’s eyes were on Candace and Phineas relaxed slightly. He wasn’t usually uncomfortable being the center of attention, but his family always saw right through him. A distraction was welcomed now. Or it would have been, if Candace hadn’t continued, forcing him into the hot seat again.

“Why are you dating _Isabella_?”

He gaped, blinked a few times, and then did what he always did when lost - he turned to Ferb. He expected a raised eyebrow, for Ferb to be watching him and waiting for an answer. Instead, his brother’s nose was wrinkled as his steely gaze remained on Candace.

“What’s wrong with Isabella?”

It was like being thrown a life preserver and he scrambled for it, turning his own glare on his sister as he sat up straight. “Yeah! What’s wrong with Isabella?”

“Nothing! Most of the time, I like her more than I like you two!”

Phineas looked back to Ferb, who shrugged. That checked out.

“It’s just _weird_. Isabella is…”

“She’s lovely,” Lawrence said, as Candace trailed off. “We’ve always thought so.”

“And she’s had a crush on you for _so_ long,” Linda said, finally sitting down. “It’s nice that you finally saw it.”

“Well, she kinda had to spell it out for me.” _Truth_. “But...wait. You knew?”

“Well...yes. Yes we did.”

Lawrence chuckled. “I wouldn’t exactly call her subtle.”

He looked back for Ferb’s opinion, but his brother was absorbed in his pancakes.

“Okay. Okay, cool. Well, we’re going to go to the party together tonight, so…”

“Sounds fun.”

“Just make sure you treat her like a lady, eh Phineas?”

“Of course.” It was so weird how easy this was, so he decided to say something undeniably true. “I just want Isabella to be happy.”

He finally caught Ferb’s eye, who smiled before standing and starting to clear the table.

“Ferb’s right,” he said, picking up the plate he’d barely touched. “We should get started on decorating. We’ll be in the backyard.”

In the open air, Phineas’s head felt clearer. He was looking forward to doing what he did best: throwing himself into a project.

“So, uh...bro.”

Ferb raised an eyebrow at him.

“Izzy said you left during the movie to give us time to talk, so...you know. Thanks.”

He shrugged. “What wouldn’t we do for Isabella?”

All of his anxiety melted away and he grinned at Ferb. “Yeah! Okay, I’m thinking: dance floor that lights up to the beat of the music. Stage _there_. We get the Ferbettes together for a couple songs, and then you do your DJ magic.”

“Is she coming to help set up?”

“Later. She wanted to spend some time on her dig application today.”

Ferb paused, considering something, then waved for Phineas to follow him. He led them back to the kitchen where he put the kettle on to boil and pulled down a travel mug. He placed a tea bag in it and found a bag of trail mix in a different cabinet.

“When we were working on college applications, she always went through a bag of trail mix and she preferred tea to coffee because it kept her focused.” He filled the cup and put it and the trail mix in Phineas’s hands. “Go. Be a good boyfriend.”

Phineas wasn’t sure what to say so he just nodded once and took the offerings across the street. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro opened the door, thrilled to see him.

“Oh Phineas! Izzy told me everything! I’m so happy for you two. You’ve always been so sweet to her. What is that you’ve brought?”

“Hi Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro! I knew Isabella was working on her application today, so I thought she could use some fuel.”

“How thoughtful! She’s in her room. You can go on up.”

He thanked her and went up the stairs. He knew this path by heart. Since his hands were full, it was a good thing the bedroom door was open.

“Knock knock.”

She said nothing, scribbling something on a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat. Still nothing. Finally, he crossed the room and set the tea in front of her.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I got a little absorbed.”

He chuckled. “No worries. Ferb thought you’d like trail mix.”

She grinned. “Perfect. How’s party prep?”

“Just getting started.”

“And everyone took the news all right?”

“Yeah! It was kinda weird, actually. Like they were waiting for it or something. Except Candace. She seemed a little confused…”

“I’m sure I’ll get an earful about it Monday,” she agreed, looking at her phone. “That’s when we’re going dress shopping.”

Phineas whistled. “Damn, she works fast.”

“She’s a woman with vision, your sister, and I’ve always liked that about her.” She smirked. “Runs in the family I guess.”

He smiled. “And the plans for tonight are the same?”

“Yep.”

He turned to leave but stopped suddenly. “It doesn’t bother you? To be lying to everyone?”

She shrugged. “A little, maybe. But I tried talking to them. If this is what it takes for me to live my life, so be it. Besides,” she said with a wink, “There are worse people for me to fake-date.”

He laughed, feeling at ease in the way only she and Ferb ever made him. He wondered, briefly, what it would be like to really date her. He’d call her a little more often, maybe find a way to visit her at school without Ferb once in a while. When they talked about the future...well, they were already in each others’ corner, but then they’d be a team, pushing themselves forward instead of just cheering each other on.

He wondered a little longer about why he didn’t want that.

“See you at six?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. Six.” And he left to help his brother set up the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, one, it looks like this story is going to be longer than I originally thought and, two, I'm only about 64% sure I know what I'm doing. Any and all encouragement is welcome.


	3. Somebody's Hungover, Someone's Heartbroken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now for the reason you have all gathered here today: the pining. Also, dramatic irony is my favorite kind of irony.

So far this morning, Ferb had unpacked his school boxes, cleaned his room, reorganized his closet, finished _The Goldfinch_ , showered, dressed, and had three cups of tea while attempting to read the _Danville Gazette_ cover to cover. Mostly, he was waiting for Phineas and Candace to wake up so he could work on the car in the garage without worrying about volume.

If he had slept at all the night before, it certainly wasn’t well.

After reading a paragraph in the Arts and Leisure section three times and still having no idea what it said, Ferb put the paper down and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He couldn’t understand why this was bothering him so much. He had known it was coming. He’d been waiting for it, pushing for it even.

So why did he feel like the butt of the world’s worst practical joke?

There was a knock, so he got up to answer the door. She was in a bright yellow sundress. She must have kicked it, because her hands were full, a water bottle in one and his travel mug in the other. She waved with the bottle and he took the sunglasses off her face and placed them gingerly atop her head. Her eyes were a little red, but otherwise there was no trace left of the several drinks she’d had at the party the night before.

“Thanks,” she said, grin as bright as daylight. Already crossing the room to reach the base of the stairs, she added, “Think you could whip up some omelettes?”

He said nothing, just began to pull ingredients from the fridge. As he did, he tried again to figure out when this had happened. Thanksgiving break freshman year, when he’d seen her for the first time since they’d all gone to school and her hug had soothed a wound he hadn’t quite been cognizant of? Senior prom, when she showed up at their door in that baby blue dress and he’d been unable to breathe? The summer before, when she’d helped him fix up his car and pointed out that the problem wasn’t the starter but the fuel injectors and reinstalled them as he watched, jaw dropped? Maybe it harkened back to ninth grade, when Buford had been out for a day and some senior tried to pick on Baljeet - and Isabella gave them the dressing down of a lifetime followed by a stern right hook to back it up.

He didn’t know when it had actually happened, but he could pinpoint the day he knew.

It was his nineteenth birthday, but Phineas was more excited than he was. “We gotta do something _spectacular,”_ he’d insisted. “It’s your real birthday! This won’t happen for another four years!”

“It’s a Tuesday,” he’d reminded him.

By day of, he had talked Phineas down, satisfying him by agreeing to let their parents drive up to take them to dinner.

“Won’t that have you getting home awfully late?”

“Honestly, Ferb,” his mother had assured him. “It’s no trouble.”

When he and Phineas pulled up to the restaurant, their parents’ station wagon was already in the lot. Phineas was almost skipping as they passed the hostess stand, and Ferb couldn’t help but wonder why he looked so pleased with himself, until his eyes fell on the table and--

“Ferb!”

He felt his reaction before he thought about it - his grin spread cheek to cheek, his arms opened wide and then automatically wrapped around her as soon as she’d thrown hers around his neck. Forget fresh-cut grass or watermelon - summer smelled like lavender. He felt light. He felt _free_.

When she leaned back, he meant to let her go, but her hands didn’t leave his shoulders and she was smiling at him with all the warmth of the sun.

“I told Phineas I wanted you to get your gift _on_ your birthday, and I asked if he’d pass it along, but...he had a better idea.”

His brother was beaming. His mum was standing behind her, hands clasped. In the booth, his father was paying no attention, still looking at the menu, but Candace did give him an odd look. He chose to ignore it.

“You have a class Tuesday nights,” he remembered. “I didn’t want anyone to go through any trouble for--”

Linda opened her mouth, started to say again that it wasn’t any, but Isabella beat her to it.

“Actually, I had a test. Had to lie to the professor to reschedule, so...it was a _little_ trouble.”

He opened his mouth to apologize, but she pointed a finger at his chest, still smiling.

“But _you,_ Ferbian Fletcher, are absolutely worth it. There’s nowhere I’d rather be tonight.”

He was inclined to agree, with the quiet contentment of having exactly what he hadn’t realized he wanted. He decided this was the perfect way to spend his birthday, that he wanted to spend all the rest of them this way - with the people he loved most. And the fact that it had been a little trouble but they had gone through it to celebrate with him and show him how important he was to them...it filled his heart to bursting.

When dinner was over, he suggested he and Phineas be the ones to take Isabella back to her school, since it wasn’t exactly on the way to Danville. The look on his parents’ faces implied their agreement had less to do with the inconvenience and more with giving Ferb a little more of his birthday with his two best friends. And yet, once they’d gone, Phineas was yawning so much Ferb insisted he go to bed and leave the drop-off to him.

An hour and a half later, sitting in the lot at her dorm, neither moved to get out, talking for at least another twenty minutes. It occurred to him that joy hadn’t gone anywhere, that he would be content to spend forever in this car. He realized that, almost every moment he’d found himself thinking how much he loved his life had included Isabella.

All those years, reassuring her that his brother would come around, he’d never had to convince himself. Isabella was brilliant and kind and fun, tough and beautiful, and he’d always known his brother would fall in love with her one day. He’d just never thought about why he was so sure - it hadn’t crossed his mind to think it was because he already had.

“Phineas!”

In the present, he raised an eyebrow at her as she stood at the base of the stairs.

“What? I saw your folks drive away an hour ago, Candace has been texting me about wedding stuff since six, and you’re standing right there making omelettes, which means the only person left to wake up is--” She bellowed again, “PHINEAS!”

There was a vague groan from up the stairs, satisfying Isabella enough to move her into the kitchen. Without a word, she began to eat the eggs as he finished cutting the peppers and set the pan on the burner to pre-heat. She poured a little milk in to make it fluffy, just like he’d taught her, and then handed him the bowl so he could take over.

It was about then that Phineas stumbled down the stairs, clutching the dining room table as he sat down. His hair was all over the place, his eyes bloodshot enough to match.

“Here,” Isabella said, placing the bottle and travel mug in front of him. “Alternate these two. Slowly.” Fishing something from her pocket, she added, “And take these. Omelettes will be ready soon.”

He took the pills first, then made a face as he sipped the coffee. “Is this black?”

“If you drink it as sweet as you usually do, you _will_ throw it up.”

“How much did you drink last night?” Ferb asked, placing a plate in front of him before starting on the next one. 

“I have no idea.”

“Two,” Isabella said. “You had two drinks. _Maybe_ two and half, because you did steal some of my margarita.” Over her shoulder to Ferb, she said, “Your brother is a lightweight.”

“Your boyfriend is a lightweight,” he mumbled back.

Without taking his eyes off the pan, he took a sip of tea to wash the word out of his mouth.

“I didn’t...I didn’t ruin it last night, did I? I didn’t say anything wrong?”

“No Phineas,” Isabella said, the tenderness in her voice causing Ferb’s heart to ache, “You didn’t.”

He sighed, relieved. “Good. Also, why am I awake?”

“You promised Buford and Baljeet you’d go rock-climbing. They’re picking you up at ten.”

He groaned. “The way I feel right now, there is no way that’s going to be a good time. At least you two are coming, right?”

“I wasn’t invited.”

He blinked. “You weren’t?”

Ferb had thought his days of being irritated over his brother’s cluelessness would end now that they were together, but he had to fight not to roll his eyes. “Phineas.”

“What?”

“He’s referring to the fact that Buford and Baljeet want to interrogate you about our new relationship, and that’s why I wasn’t invited.” She sat down next to him as Ferb set a plate in front of her. “I have lunch with the girls later for the same reason.”

“Oh. But...Ferb…”

He hesitated. At some point, he should play supportive brother, hear the story and properly congratulate Phineas on the good news. But it was probably best to do that alone with Phineas - not in front of Buford, who was disturbingly perceptive.

“I didn’t sleep very well, and I didn’t promise anything.”

Isabella’s brow knit with concern as he set a mug of tea next to her plate. “Everything all right?”

He nodded, but the look remained. He turned back to the pan to make his own omelette - not because he was hungry, but because he needed something to focus on. He ate quickly and then immediately began to clean up.

“I can do the dishes. You cooked.”

He shook his head, but Isabella, arms crossed, glared at him until he held out a hand towel for her. She nodded once and settled in next to him so he could hand her clean dishes to dry and put away.

This was the exact moment Phineas excused himself to get ready and Ferb, who had never in his life felt awkward alone with anyone, became hyper aware of every movement, every breath, pins and needles running through his body. He tried to concentrate on just not breaking anything.

“I missed breakfast?”

_Thank God._

“You should have come down,” Isabella chastised, setting the last plate in the cabinet.

Candace brushed it off, already moving on to the Wedding Binder, dragging Isabella in after her. Ferb took the moment to escape to the garage and start tinkering.

The creeper was the best place to be when he needed a mental break, as an engine from this angle required just enough energy to tune out the rest of his thoughts, like white noise for his brain. He didn’t know how long he’d been under, long enough for his shoulders to be a little sore, when he heard his name, high and shrill, echo in the garage.

There was a loud clang as he his head on the engine block. It took him another minute to scramble out from under it. Isabella met him halfway as he crossed the garage to get to her, his heart pounding. Her wide eyes and the gray sheen to her skin confirmed what her tone had already told him.

“Are you all right?”

He briefly touched the spot where a bump was surely forming, but nodded, reaching out to grip her elbows. Whatever was bothering her, it looked like she needed an anchor. He leaned in to ask her to continue.

“Are you okay--”

“I’m--”

“With me and Phineas?”

He blinked. Was that why she was panicking?

Sure enough, her next words were rushed, breathless. “We were talking about Suzy, and that she only hates Candace for, you know, stealing her brother, and I realized...I don’t want that. I don’t want anything to change between the three of us.”

She watched him, wide-eyed but patient, as he searched for words.

“I wouldn’t have left you two alone if I didn’t want this for you.”

Her shoulders fell. “Yes, I know, because you’re the sweetest and you wouldn’t stand in the way of my happiness or whatever, but Ferb--”

“You are my two favorite people in the world,” he continued. “Of course I want you to be happy together.”

Instead of relaxing her, this seemed to make it worse. She gripped his biceps, hard. “Ferb,” she said slowly, voice grave. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

He swallowed. “It will.”

“But what if it _doesn’t_? I can’t lose you.” She let go of his arms to bury her face in her hands. “I didn’t think this through. I shouldn’t have risked --”

“ _If_ you split up,” he assured her, barely fighting the urge to lift her chin to make her look at him. “You’ll just have to share custody.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, and his breath caught again at her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not going to lose me, Isabella. Promise.”

She giggled. “And you never break a promise.”

He smiled, glad she was feeling better. “Exactly. So you can stop worrying and go back to wedding planning.”

“Actually…” she said, glancing at her watch. “You’ve been in here a while. Lunch time. I’m going to meet the girls.”

He jerked his head towards the car.

“I’ll walk, but thanks. See you tomorrow?”

He nodded and let her go. She waved as she stepped out of the garage into the sun. Behind him, Candace cleared her throat.

“Different question: why aren’t _you_ dating Isabella?”

He gave her his best “that’d be weird” smirk. She rolled her eyes.

Sometimes he hated that his sister had become a lawyer. No. He hated that she had become such a good one. She was the only one in the family who could occasionally best him in a debate, and today he didn’t have the energy for their sparring match. Instead, he shrugged. To her credit, Candace didn’t push him, just sighed and left him alone in the garage. His head was still aching, and he wondered if it was just the bump or if he was feeling the lack of sleep now.

Ignoring it, he reclined on the creeper, and pulled himself back under the engine.


	4. Something Better Out There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferb looks out for Isabella, who is starting to realize there may be some flaws in her brilliant plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I gave Phineas my anxiety AND my ADHD.
> 
> Also, this is officially the furthest I've ever gotten in a multi-chap fic, so...pray for me, y'all.

Isabella sank into the chair like she was dropped. Stacy, unaffected, took a sip of her frappuccino.

“First time?”

“Who knew dress shopping would take so much out of me?”

“This still went better than prom dress shopping senior year.”

Linda place two large bags of take-out on the table with a groan. “I’d almost blocked that out,” she muttered. With a smile, she said, “Isabella, would you please go tell the boys dinner is here?”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher.” She paused to pull a folded stack of papers from her bag before bounding upstairs. She knocked on Ferb’s door first.

“Whatcha doin’?”

He held up a familiar book with a smirk. She grinned.

“Amazing, right?”

He nodded.

“Told you. We brought dinner.

“How was shopping?” he asked, slipping a bookmark in and crossing the room to set it on his bedside table. Other than the book, the only thing sitting on it was a simple white lamp. His queen bed next to it was made up in navy and white with a bookshelf above it. The most spectacular thing in the room was the red phonebooth he still kept in the corner.

“Exhausting. And more expensive than I anticipated.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I’m fine. You know I just get a little twitchy spending money when there’s none coming in. I haven’t had any luck on the job front yet.” She shrugged. “I dunno. I could work at the mall again, like I did last summer.”

“Absolutely not.”

It was Isabella’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Do what you want, obviously, but you were _miserable_ last summer. I hated seeing you like that. There has to be something better out there.”

“I’ll look a little harder once I get this application turned in. Speaking of which…” She handed him the papers. “Would you take a look at this for me?”

He unfolded it and laid it on his desk, already scanning the first few lines. Isabella smiled at the set up. The corner bookshelf was an antique from his parents’ store, well-loved and well-organized and full to bursting. She ran her fingers over the spines, recognizing titles they’d spoken about often. The desk next to it held little: another lamp, a laptop, a cup of pens, and a notebook. And a framed photo of Phineas, Ferb, and Isabella in front of the tree in the backyard. 

“No rush. I don’t need it back until Thursday.”

“I’ll do it tonight,” he said.

“Thanks.”

He swept his arm towards the door and followed her out of his room, but she turned right and he turned left. Pausing at the steps, he turned back to look at her quizzically.

“Still gotta get Phineas.”

He nodded, waving as he headed downstairs. Isabella watched him go for a moment before making her way to Phineas’s room.

His door was open a crack, so she pushed it inwards gently. He was standing in front of his drafting table in his massive cordless headphones, which he’d turned up so loud Isabella could now hear the words to whatever song he was playing. It wasn’t quite loud enough to make them out, but she recognized the artist.

His room was so different from Ferb’s that it was funny to remember they used to share. The wall above the drafting table was covered in posters or blueprints or photos of his friends and family, including the same one from Ferb’s desk as well as photos from prom, graduation, and every Christmas they’d spent together. A turntable and an aquarium both rested against the wall opposite, with his electric guitar in the corner and records pinned up above them. The floor was covered in dirty clothes and crumpled papers.

He started when she tapped his shoulder but smiled as he removed his headphones. “Done dress shopping already?”

“It’s dinner time. We were gone all day.”

His mouth formed an “o.” She shook her head fondly. It had significantly soothed her ego when they’d gotten to high school and she’d realized it wasn’t just her he could tune out with his work - it was everything. “What did you decide on?”

“Wanna see a pic?”

“Duh.”

She swiped through her phone until they were standing, shoulder to shoulder, looking at a picture of her and Stacy in matching lavender dresses.

“You look so pretty!”

“Thanks,” she giggled. “What are you working on?”

“A canopy covering in case of rain.”

“Nice. You’ll have to tell Candace about it over dinner.”

He did, and while Lawrence and Linda were thrilled, Candace’s skepticism showed on her face.

“I’d still like to look at the Fireside Hall…”

“That’s a lot of money to spend on a back-up plan, isn’t it honey?”

“Phineas seems confident about the canopy.”

“Yeah, but...I don’t trust that it won’t... _disappear_.”

“Our inventions haven’t done that in a while.”

“How long’s a while?”

“I’d say...five years?”

On her other side, Ferb mumbled in acknowledgement. Isabella did the math.

“Oh. Since you moved out.”

“Exactly. Now, I know I’m not trying to bust you guys any more, but...Mysterious Force, you know?”

Isabella nodded, understanding. “As long as nobody’s already using it, I can get it for free.”

“Free? I was hoping for a discount. You think I can get it free?”

“ _You_ can get a discount because you’re Candace Flynn. But _I_ am Isabella Garcia-Shapiro.”

Phineas snickered, but Ferb was gazing at her fondly. She grinned and winked at him. “Just leave it to me,” she assured them, and went back to her plate.

***

When her phone rang at nine the next morning, she half-expected it to be Candace, checking in on the status of the hall already. But when the groggily answered, the responding accent was British.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No worries,” she said, burrowing deeper into the covers. It was funny. Phineas was the talkative one, and yet they never spoke on the phone. Instead, they communicated via a constant stream of texts and a SnapChat streak a hundred days long. (It would have been longer, but _someone_ spent an entire weekend working on a hoverboard with a built-in safety net and completely forgot to respond to her drunken video from a party Friday night.)

But Ferb called - at least once a week, sometimes every other day. And he always picked up when she called him, even if it was just to say he couldn’t talk but would call her back.

If someone asked, she would have a hard time saying exactly what they talked about. Books, definitely. Current events and how they were covered in the three papers they both subscribed to. How their days had gone. Philosophical discussions about religion or the future of technology. Arguments about whether baseball or cricket was better.

“I can call later.”

“Ferb, no. Talk to me.”

He sighed, and she could see in her mind’s eye, his shoulders relaxing. “First, I read the essay. There’s a sentence you should clarify, as it might be difficult for someone who doesn’t know you so well to understand, and one point you could expound on a bit more. Overall, it’s brilliant work.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you doing this.”

She knew he was shrugging, his ‘don’t mention it’ look on his face.

“Second?”

“The _Danville Gazette_ is hiring paid interns for the summer.”

She blinked. First she was surprised he wasn’t using this as another opportunity to tease her about how the physical paper was better than the app she used, but that was quickly eclipsed by excitement. “They are?”

He was nodding, she was sure of it.

“I’d _love_ that.”

If he wasn’t smirking before, he definitely was now, his smug ‘I know’ look. “I saved the clipping. You can get it when you come over.”

“Thanks Ferb.”

She hung up with him and slowly rolled out of bed, stretching as she did. She took her time showering, dressing, and blow-drying her hair. Ferb would have mentioned if she was in danger of missing anything.

Sure enough, when she swung open the gate in their backyard, she could tell the project was in its early stages. Phineas and Ferb were marking up blueprints while everyone else milled around and chatted.

“Hey Isabella! Did Dinner Bell tell you he narfed at rock climbing the other day?”

“Buford! We agreed we would not share that particular piece of information.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a maverick.”

She shook her head. “I was afraid that would happen. Boy can’t hold his liquor.”

“You’d never catch _me_ dating someone with such a weak constitution.”

“Buford!”

Isabella laughed. “Heart wants what it wants, I guess. Hang on, I gotta say hi to the girls.”

The former Fireside Girls - Isabella having been the only one to continue as a volunteer after matriculation - were huddled in the opposite corner of the yard, and she waved at Phineas on her way over. The girls’ whispers stopped abruptly when she reached them.

“Hey Chief,” Millie said, but she wouldn’t quite meet her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

They all mumbled some variation of ‘nothing,’ but Isabella put her hands on her hips and glared.

“We’re just...not sure about this you and Phineas thing.”

Isabella braced herself, trying to look concerned instead of relieved. “What do you mean?”

They were all quiet, looking pointedly to Adyson, who cleared her throat.

“Has anything _changed_ since you started dating?”

“It’s been four days!”

“He just doesn’t seem very...attentive.”

This was a turn she did not like. “He’s just Phineas.”

“We know. And he’s a great guy, but...maybe not a great boyfriend.”

Isabella winced. She had wanted to prove that a relationship between them wouldn’t work, but she hadn’t wanted anyone to blame _Phineas_ for it. Poor guy was doing her a favor and now her friends were going to hate him for it.

Gretchen spoke up next. “I talked to Ferb and--”

Her heart stopped. “You talked to _Ferb_ about it?”

“Well...yeah. We just think he needs a little pushing, and--”

“No!”

She only realized how loud she was when she noticed the rest of the yard go quiet. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to the group.

“Phineas is Phineas,” she whispered. If I want to be in a relationship with him, I have to be in a relationship with _him_ , not some made up version of him in my head. And I certainly don’t need you tattling on him to his _brother_.” She huffed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a certain Brit I need to strangle.”

She turned and came nose to nose with the man himself. She walked away, and he followed without being told.

“You talked to Gretchen?” she hissed. “About me and Phineas?”

“Technically, she talked and I listened.”

“Look, if we’re going to give this a try--”

“Then he should actually try,” Ferb interjected, and the action alone was so shocking to Isabella that it took her a moment to catch up with his words. His voice was even, but she could hear the hard edge to it. Her heart was pounding. The last thing she wanted was to get Ferb mad at his brother. “Have you even gone on a date yet?”

Isabella blinked because...wow. She hadn’t thought of that.

“We’re going Friday,” she blurted, regretting it immediately as she prayed the brothers didn’t have plans she didn’t know about. Ferb raised an eyebrow. “Once my application is finished.”

Ferb nodded. They stood for a moment in silence until Phineas called his name. Still, he didn’t move until Isabella said, “We’re adjusting, that’s all. It’s new.”

Ferb hesitated, but his shoulders relaxed and he crossed the yard to help his brother.


	5. Practice, Practice, Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas and Isabella go on their first "date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very conversation-heavy. Also, I tend to run with the (canon-supported if not outright confirmed) idea that Ferb is way more talkative when it's just him and Phineas.
> 
> I hope you're all staying safe and keeping yourselves occupied. I'm makeusfly on Tumblr if you want to come over and either commiserate or distract ourselves from the Weirdness.

There was no mistaking who was knocking on his door.

“Ferb! Perfect timing. Polka dots or stripes?”

His brother took a long look at the tie in each hand and shook his head. He stepped into his closet and tossed him a solid dark blue that went well with the pale pink button-down he was wearing.

“Thanks,” Phineas said, starting to put it on. Ferb sat on the edge of the bed and waited. “Am I dressed okay? It occurs to me that I’ve never actually been on a date and you have...though it’s been a while, come to think of it. Still--”

“You look great,” he said, cutting him off. “Where are you taking her?”

“The new Japanese place downtown.”

“Want to borrow the car?”

“Nah,” he said, giving the tie a final tug. “We’re gonna walk.”

Ferb nodded and pursed his lips. Phineas watched him expectantly.

“Did Dad give you the ‘first date’ talk?”

“He did…” he said slowly, not sure where this was going. Then he chuckled. “You’re not here to give me the ‘break her heart, I’ll break your face’ talk, are you?”

“Phineas: you’re my brother and I love you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“But?”

Ferb looked away as if gathering his thoughts. Then, standing up, he said, “If this were anyone else going on a date with Isabella…”

“I’d be standing behind you with a shovel! Look, bro--” He sighed, the indignation rushing out of him like air from a popped balloon. “This is all new to me, but I wouldn’t hurt her on purpose.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Ferb admitted. “But you spent a lot of time hurting her without meaning to. You can be a bit...oblivious.”

Phineas swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, he wanted to know why nobody - especially  _ Ferb,  _ of all people - had ever said anything. But what if they had? He couldn’t conjure feelings that weren’t there. And then came that question of why again. He loved Isabella. She was his second favorite person in the world. Why  _ didn’t  _ he want to go out with her?

Ferb was running a hand through his hair and his phone dinged with a text he was likely going to ignore and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He wasn’t sure what he could tell Ferb that wasn’t an outright lie, so he just met his gaze.

Ferb sighed. “Do you have cash for flowers?”

Phineas chuckled, pointing to the bouquet sitting on his drafting table. “I might not know anything about being a boyfriend, but I  _ do  _ know Isabella.”

His brother smiled. “Sunflowers are her favorite.”

“Exactly.”

“Have fun,” Ferb said finally, squeezing Phineas’s shoulder before turning to leave. Phineas took a deep breath and a final look in the mirror before leaving too. When he did, Ferb was long gone.

He was a little nervous about what to say to Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro when she opened the door, but Isabella saw him coming and met him on the sidewalk so he didn’t have to deal with it. She was thrilled by the flowers, popping back into the house to put them in water before they walked to the restaurant. The walk itself was nice - walking in a companionable silence with a comforting breeze blowing. It wasn’t until they were seated that Phineas remembered he had no idea what a date was supposed to look like.

“So…” he said, fiddling with the napkin on his lap.

“So?”

“So,” he repeated, not meeting her eyes, tapping his fingers against the table.

“Phineas,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “What are you worrying about?”

“I’ve just never been on a date before,” he confessed.

Isabella giggled. “Is that all? I knew that already. Besides, this isn’t a real date, Phin. It’s just me.” She considered it for a second, then said, “Think of it as a practice date.”

He grinned. When they’d talked about it before, it was all about making everyone else think they were serious. And how the heck was he supposed to do that when he didn’t know what serious looked like? But practice? Practice, he could do.

“Okay! If we’re practicing, that means I can ask questions when I”m lost, right?”

“Definitely,” she agreed.

He took a sip of his water, organizing his thoughts, then asked, “What does a first date usually look like?”

“Well, when you haven’t known the person since you were six, it’s basically a getting-to-know-you session. You go through the ‘where are you from’ and ‘what do you do’ and ‘do you have a five-year-plan’ conversations.”

“And if you have known the person since you were six?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. This is the first date I’ve been on with someone I’ve known since I was six. We just...talk, I think.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. “When do you hear about the dig application?”

“By the end of the summer,” she said. “Should be before registration, because there’s a special course we have to take in the fall to be ready in the spring.”

“And it won’t mess with your soccer schedule?”

“I wasn’t actually sure when Ferb asked me, but I checked. It won’t.”

“Good. I know you love that.”

She nodded as silence fell again. The waiter stopped by to take their orders. Once he was gone, Isabella squirmed in her seat. Phineas bit his lip. He never had trouble talking to Isabella before. Why was this so weird?

“So if Ferb’s working on another car, what are you doing this summer?”

“I have a stack of blueprints I want to get through, but I’m mostly prepping for the wedding.” He started ticking items off on his fingers. “The canopy, the chairs, the tribute video, the dance floor…”

“I didn’t think about it before...what’s she going to do about a D.J. since Ferb’s in the wedding party?”

“We have an automated booth ready to go, but I think she’s got a couple bands lined up.”

Isabella chuckled. “She  _ is  _ Candace Flynn. And Jeremy’s got some connections himself. Let me know if I can help with any of it.”

“We always do. How’s the hall coming?”

“Oh, it’s done! Did Ferb not tell you? We were talking about it yesterday.”

“No. No he didn’t. But he did say you got an internship for the summer?”

“Yes! I’m surprised it happened so quickly, but I start Monday. I’m really excited. And I would have even known about it if it weren’t for him.”

“Speaking of Ferb…” Phineas said, leaning in. “I was thinking: he dated a lot in high school, but I don’t think he’s been out with anybody since--”

“The one with Vanessa right after graduation.”

“Right. I’m not...actually sure why that didn’t work out.”

Isabella shrugged. “Have you asked him?”

“No. It seemed kinda mean at the time; I figured he’d talk about it when he was ready. But it’s been a while and I just thought...we should set him up with somebody.”

Isabella coughed up the water she had been drinking. Phineas froze.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She was a little pale, but Phineas figured that was just her trying to get her breath back. “Why though? Did he say he wants to go out with someone?”

“No, I just thought...he deserves someone nice.”

Isabella opened her mouth to respond, but the waiter came by with their plates. Once he’d left, Isabella appeared back to normal.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start though. None of the girls in high school had anything in common, and he hasn’t seemed interested in anyone since Vanessa, so what kind of girl would he even like?”

Phineas shrugged. “I’ll admit, it’s not a fully-baked idea.” He tilted his head and asked, “How do you know that you want to date someone?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“Just...you know. I don’t think I’ve had a crush on anybody before, but how would I know how to identify the feelings if they were completely new?”

She smiled. “It’s different for everybody, I think. And maybe for each crush? When I was crushing on you, you were literally the only thing I could think about. But when I started liking Dylan sophomore year, it wasn’t a big thing. I was just really happy talking to him and felt butterflies when I saw him across the room.”

Phineas shook his head. “There are a lot of people I’m happy to talk to, but I don’t think there’s been any butterflies.”

“So maybe it’s different for you. Or maybe you haven’t met the right person or maybe you’re ace and you’re not going to be into anybody.” She reached out to set her hand on top of his. “I got a head-start figuring all this out because of my obsession with you, but there’s no need to rush.”

Phineas’s eyes were glued to their hands. “Ferb says I spent a lot of time hurting you without meaning to.”

“That’s not fair. It was a painful situation, but it wasn’t your fault.”

“Still. I hate it.”

“I don’t.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“If we hadn’t gone through that, we might not be as close as we are now.”

He smiled and flipped his hand over to squeeze hers. “That’s fair. I definitely wouldn’t change that for anything.”


	6. A Week in the Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferb makes it through a week of Phineas and Isabella dating...with debatable success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly a filler chapter, but I wanted to give you some Ferb pining/angst for the week.

Saturday

The knock came long after Ferb would normally have been up. He was definitely awake - sleep had been hard to come by and easily interrupted, thinking every sound was Phineas getting home from his date. He wasn’t sure if he was hoping for Phineas to knock on his door to tell him about his night or dreading it.

But the knock this morning wasn’t Phineas. It was just as confident but more measured.

“Hey,” his sister said from the door, completely undeterred by the pillow he was holding over his head. “Let’s go out for breakfast.” 

He uncovered his face and lifted an eyebrow at her.

“My treat,” she added.

He sat up then, trying to give his best ‘I’m fine’ look. But Candace tilted her head at him, her hands on her hips, and he sighed.

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said, closing the door firmly behind her.

Ferb pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, trying to wake up just enough to get out of bed and dressed. He briefly considered coffee instead of tea - he was that tired. 

Sunday

Ferb hadn’t intended to avoid his brother all day, but Candace made it easy. She brushed off each insistence that he was fine, saying that this wasn’t about him, she needed his help on music and catering and the other minutiae that Phineas, as the big picture guy, would have been completely useless for. It wasn’t until they were parting ways for the night that she finally said, with a shrug, “I've found it never hurts to have an extra day to adjust.”

Amazingly, she was right. He woke up Sunday well-rested and feeling like he could  _ actually  _ be happy for his brother.

Still, when Buford asked if Phineas ‘got lucky Friday,’ Ferb briefly considered breaking out the mace. Even  Phineas paused his work, looking intensely uncomfortable. “Not that that’s an appropriate way to talk about any woman, but you realize this is Isabella you’re talking about, right?”

“What about me?”

Ferb tried to shoot Buford a warning look, but Isabella in denim shorts was more distracting than he’d like to admit.

“We were just asking Phineas if he got lucky Friday night.”

Isabella smirked, approaching Buford innocently with her hands behind her back.

“Well since your primary experience is with your hand, I’d imagine just a date with a real girl would seem pretty lucky.”

Isabella was about Phineas’s height, making her a full six inches shorter than Buford and half his width, but Ferb was always amazed when he saw her standing next to the former bully. Everything about her stance proved her to be his equal, and Buford knew it too.

“I’m being an inappropriate ass again, huh?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s not the inappropriateness I take issue with, it’s the objectification.”

Buford grinned. “Aww, Izzy. Give me some time. I was just about to ask if  _ you  _ got lucky Friday.”

She rolled her eyes. “My partner is a very private person, so I will not kiss and tell.”

“Hey! That’s the same thing you said after Seven Minutes in Heaven at Adyson’s party!”

“And what did you learn?”

“That Ferb has an excellent poker face.”

She turned back then and winked at him. He smirked, remembering the incident himself. It had been one of the gang's matchmaking attempts right after they’d all graduated junior high. It had backfired, but Isabella hadn’t seemed entirely devastated to have Ferb be her first kiss.

“We can just get it out of the way,” she had said. “No pressure style.”

At the time, it hadn’t meant anything to him besides doing a favor for a friend. If only he’d known what he knew now…

Monday

“I was starting to worry about you, Fletcher.”

He smirked into the phone. “How was your first day?”

He settled back on the bed as Isabella took him through her day in the newsroom. “I really thought it was going to be all coffee-fetching and phone-answering, but I got to fact-check an article today! And tomorrow I’m paired with an editor for a crash course in proofreading!”

“I’m glad. Coffee-fetching and phone-answering would be a waste of your considerable talents.”

“You think too highly of me.”

He assured her he didn’t before urging her to continue.

Tuesday

Ferb turned the radio down as Isabella opened the passenger’s door and climbed inside. Before he could stop himself, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the rush of lavender that overwhelmed him.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

He shrugged but smiled.

“At some point, I should get my own car, but so far, the expense just hasn’t been worth it. Especially considering how little I’m making right now.”

He nodded, understanding. As they came to a red light, he turned to face her, trying to keep his expression neutral as she bit her lip.

“I was just thinking…” she said finally. “We were talking about some of my articles from the Fireside Girl Gazette today, and…”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Your light is green.”

He glanced up, then eased on the gas. With one hand on the wheel, he gestured for her to continue with the other.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said.

Ferb did a double-take.

“Just...I know I was... _ obsessed  _ with Phineas for a while there. But you’ve always been just as brilliant and an amazing friend, and...I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like less than that.”

Ferb swallowed a lump in his throat. He’d felt like he’d been standing in Phineas’s shadow since their parents had gotten married, but it didn’t usually bother him. He also thought Phineas was amazing, and he knew that didn’t detract from who he was either. Besides, unlike Phineas, his skin crawled at the idea of being the center of attention.

And yet. Every once in a while…

Quietly, he said, “It’s been a while since you’ve made me feel that way.”

“Still,” she said, turning the full power of her soft gaze on him. “I’m sorry I ever did.”

For a moment, he wanted so badly to reach out and squeeze her hand. Instead he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Wednesday

“Thanks for having me over for dinner, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher,” Isabella said, passing a stack of clean plates to Ferb.

“Oh please,” his mother said. “You’ve been family long enough, Isabella. Just call me Linda.”

Ferb almost dropped the china she'd just handed him. He took a deep breath as his mind scrambled for a calming thought. This wasn’t news. Even before she dated Phineas, they’d all loved Isabella. She’d been included in so many Flynn-Fletcher excursions that ‘family outing’ always meant ‘go get Isabella.’ But the idea of it being official, that he would one day have to refer to her as his sister-in-law…

He shook his head to dispel the notion. It had taken them a decade just to go on a date. Surely, by the time they made it to an altar, he’d be over this.

Thursday

Candace had turned the living room into a war room, the far corner of which held an easel with a corkboard bigger than their TV.

“So the ice sculpture will go here,” she said, pointing to the center of the board. “But no slides!”

Phineas shrugged. “We’ll work on a way to keep it from melting this time.”

“Of course,” Ferb reasoned, “the bigger it is, the longer it takes to melt naturally.”

Isabella was sitting cross-legged between them, and Phineas shuffled away as she shifted her weight to get more comfortable. “I was thinking though...what if you did  _ tiny  _ ice sculptures as the table centerpieces instead of a giant one?”

Ferb cocked his head, trying to see where she was coming from while Phineas immediately started talking about cooling plates to keep the ice stable.

“Then what would go in the middle of the room?” Candace asked, arms crossed.

Ferb’s first thought was some kind of champagne fountain, but they’d already decided that would be in the corner, making it easier to monitor for abuse. Isabella pushed herself up to stand next to Candace at the corkboard. “Remember when you made that scrapbook for Jeremy’s birthday and the boys turned it into a massive ride?”

Linda blinked. “They did what now?”

Candace just rolled her eyes. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“You should do that again, and let the boys blow it up.”

“She means in size,” Candace said, glaring at her brothers though her eyes sparkled as she did. “Not literally.”

“Oh Candace,” Phineas chuckled. “As if we ever blow anything up on  _ purpose.” _

“And not as big as before. More of a moving sculpture than a  ride . Less chance for something to go wrong and more of a personal touch,” Isabella continued. “More romantic.”

Phineas grinned. “Does my girl know romance or what?”

“Well, one of you should,” Ferb mumbled, not as under his breath as he meant to if Isabella’s sudden sharp giggle was any indicator.

Friday

Halfway through reading the paper, Ferb broke the ‘no phones at the table’ rule and dialed Isabella, glad it was just him and Candace still eating.

“I was waiting for you to call.”

“Why didn’t you--”

“I wanted to surprise you. What do you think?”

He traced the byline with his finger, smiling. “It’s an excellent article, love.”

There was a beat when he realized what he said and his heart pounded. Holding his breath, he glanced up to see what Candace thought, but his sister was buried in her wedding binder. Isabella, for her part, must have just chalked it up to one of his British quirks, because she said nothing.

“They said my writing skill was the reason I got the job, so they want to help me develop it. They’re sending me to write about an art show tomorrow night too. Are you free?”

He hesitated.

“Come on! Phineas already said yes, and it's been a while since the three of us hung out. Please?”

A knot was forming in his stomach. If he wasn’t more careful, even his oblivious brother was going to see through him soon. He had to figure out a way to step back. But when had he ever been able to deny Isabella anything? “Sure,” he said. “What’s the dress code?”


	7. Fragile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella's internship leads to some old friends and new ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took way more work than any of the others and I'm STILL not sure I'm happy with it. But maybe it's just because things are starting to happen and I'm nervous about setting those things up?
> 
> Anyways, enjoy. Stay safe.

Friday

Isabella double-checked her purse one more time. Besides the usual things, she made sure she had her paper-issued reporter's notebook, the refillable purple pen/recorder Phineas had made her last week, and her press credentials for the art show. Satisfied, she pushed her chair under her desk.

"Thanks again for driving me home, Marissa."

Her fellow intern smiled. "No worries. You ready to go?"

She turned off her monitor and nodded. When Ferb first suggested the internship, it seemed like a simple networking opportunity. She thought she would be lucky to make a few meaningful connections with real reporters. It was a nice surprise Monday morning when one of the editors had taken a half-hour with each of them to talk about their credentials and what they wanted out of this internship. Isabella was a little embarrassed to admit she wasn't sure, but they had filled her week with a variety of assignments to give her a feel for the newsroom. And tomorrow she was going to get to attend an art show with her two best friends and write about it.

Not a bad way to spend the summer.

Isabella closed her eyes and tilted her head back to savor the sunlight as they stepped out of the building. 

"Damn. How is it possible he's gotten even hotter since high school?"

Opening her eyes, she found Marissa looking appreciatively over the rims of her sunglasses at a man standing in front of a red convertible she recognized. She swallowed an irritation rising in her throat like bile. 

Generally speaking, Isabella liked Marissa. When she saw her in the lobby Monday morning, she'd spent several seconds trying to figure out why she recognized her. By the time she'd given up, Marissa had crossed the distance between them with a hand out. "You went to Danville High, right?" she'd said. "I'm Marissa."

Instead of clearing things up, the name and context had made that feeling niggling at the back of her head worse. Marissa from Danville High...why couldn't she remember anything about her? As she'd spent time with her this week, it hadn't become any clearer, but she had found Marissa to be bright and kind and just a little bit snarky. In other words: her favorite kind of person.

Standing in the lot, she watched Ferb as they approached, wondering if the familiarity had to do with proximity to him in high school. She was glad to see his head tilt was more 'am I interrupting something?' than 'I'm confused yet happy to see this person again,' but she could still feel the tension in her shoulders.

"This is Marissa," she said finally. "She went to school with us."

"I remember," Ferb said, his gaze steady. Isabella's chest felt tight as he glanced towards her, his expression impossible for even her to read. "You had chemistry with Phineas, right?"

Isabella perked up as the pieces came together. Junior year, Phineas had spent the whole fall semester talking about how brilliant and hilarious his chem lab partner was. Every time, Ferb would study Isabella like he was trying to gauge the likelihood she was going to cry. It was the first time she realized she didn't care if Phineas liked someone else, but it was hard to explain that to Ferb, who spent that semester talking about _her_ brilliance.

"Exactly," Marissa said, putting her sunglasses on top of her head.

"Marissa's studying journalism in North Carolina now, and one of her professors suggested she apply for the internship. And Ferb is the reason _I'm_ here."

"I brought it to your attention, but your talent is the reason you're here."

She shrugged. "Semantics."

"For someone so literary-minded, it amazes me that you still don't know what that word means."

"I know exactly what it means, though I confess I'm using it facetiously."

He smirked. "How capricious of you."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh! Isabella, when you said you had a boyfriend, you didn't tell me it was _Ferb Fletcher_."

Isabella's stomach dropped as she saw the panic on Ferb's face. "No!" she said. "He's not...we're not..." She took a deep breath. " _Phineas_ is my boyfriend. Ferb's brother. I mean...that's silly. We were just talking about him. You know who I mean."

Marissa blinked a couple times, looking between the two of them before stepping closer to Isabella. "Right," she said aloud. Then, in a voice she probably thought was for Isabella's-ears-only but Ferb definitely heard judging by how red he became, she said, "Umm...you know, you probably shouldn't flirt so much with your brother's boyfriend."

"We're not flirting!" Her voice was shrill and higher than she meant it to be. "It's just...Ferb. It's Ferb and me. That's just how we are."

Marissa nodded. "Sorry. Not my business." She stepped towards her own car and said, "If you don't need a ride...I'll see you Monday?"

Isabella nodded, and Marissa wasted no time getting in her car and turning the key. With the heat was coming off the blacktop in waves, it took Ferb just another minute to climb into his own driver's seat, crank the engine and turn the air conditioner up as high as it could go.

The drive home was quiet except for the radio. Isabella had spent the last ten years learning the hues of each Ferb silence. This one creaked, the awkwardness settling in her stomach and her inability to decide what to do with her hands.

"Are you sure," Ferb said finally, slowly, "You and Phineas want me to tag along tomorrow night?"

"Of course we do," she answered immediately, staring out the window. "We've got date night tonight, and tomorrow is Phineas and Ferb and Isabella time. We've missed it."

She saw his reflection in the glass, his lips in a grim line, his shoulders set. She was an expert in Ferb silences, and this one screamed 'determined.' But determined to what, she couldn't say.

Saturday

The champagne was a bad idea. More precisely, the champagne flute was a bad idea, its stem fragile between her trembling fingers.

Ferb stood on the other side of Phineas, two feet away from her, holding his own delicate glass with a hand calloused from years of work and guitar picking. He must have lost track of time in the garage today, because he still had a smudge of motor oil under a single nail that he never would have neglected except in a rush.

She took a sip of her drink, trying not to think about it.

She missed last summer. Last summer, she couldn't walk into that garage without Ferb immediately looking up from what he was doing, grinning broadly as he waved her over to ask for her opinion, or else handed her a wrench and stepped back so she could get her hands on the gears. Today had been different.

She'd thought she was so clever the night before, getting Phineas to talk about Ferb's project until he'd told her it wasn't a commission but a gift. She decided she would go over and help. It would bring back memories of last summer, make him forget the whole Marissa-thing, and everything would go back to normal.

It hadn't gone as expected. First, he hadn't noticed her until she leaned against the bumper and asked, "Whatcha doin'?" He'd said nothing, just nodded towards the engine. She peered inside, close enough that his fluffy green hair brushed against her forehead. He jerked back.

Last summer, they'd spent hours just like this, side-by-side staring into the engine. 

_Take the L, Isabella,_ a voice in her head said.

Instead, she pointed to the flywheel. "You know, if you tune that a little differently, you'll get a quicker acceleration."

He didn't respond. 

"It looks different than the one you used in your car. It's not as efficient."

"Safer though," he finally said.

She shrugged. "If you're into that sort of thing."

It hadn't even earned her a smirk. She bit her lip, deciding to change tactics.

"Phineas said it was a gift."

He was scowling now. Clearly, that was supposed to be a secret.

"Who's it for?"

He shook his head, confirming that he wasn't going to answer. But that's how he told _other people_ he didn't want to answer. With her, he almost always put a finger to his lips and winked. _Spoilers_ , it always made her think.

"I mean, it must be somebody pretty important if you're so concerned about safety. Is it a wedding gift for Candace?"

He shook his head, but still didn't look at her. She sighed.

"Okay, well...looks like, you don't need my help, so..."

He didn't contradict her, so she told him good-bye and went home. She spent the next few hours trying to read, but couldn't focus on anything. She gave up and started getting ready for the art show a good hour before she needed to.

If Phineas had noticed anything strange when he and Ferb came to pick her up, he didn't say so. He looked concerned now, but he probably thought she was nervous about her first big assignment.

"Where do we start?" he asked.

She smiled at him, but he had to realize it didn't reach her eyes. He squeezed her free hand with his own. He glanced to his right to see what Ferb was thinking, but his brother was already surveying the art around them.

Even this was different than last summer, Isabella realized. She was so used to standing between her boys, but now Ferb seemed intent to keep at least one brother's length away from her. Now, he waved at Phineas and crossed the gallery to start in the northeast corner.

Isabella swallowed hard before draining half her champagne. She was hurt. She was worried.

Hell, she suddenly realized. She was _angry_.

At Marissa, sure, because how dare she comment on a relationship she didn't understand. But mostly she found herself angry at Ferb who, just two weeks ago, had promised she wouldn't lose him. Had promised it over something a lot harder than an inappropriate comment from the peanut gallery. And proving now, with a cold shoulder, that their friendship actually was--

Fragile.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to cover the choked gasp she released, because suddenly she had a thought that was even worse.

Had he only been so friendly because he was waiting on Phineas to get his act together? Maybe she couldn't lose him because she never had him to begin with. Maybe he'd just been biding his time until they started dating and he could stop pretending...

No, no. She knew Ferb better than that. But then...she'd never imagine he would have acted like this either.

"Isabella?"

She took a deep breath and smiled at her fake boyfriend. "Sorry. There's a lot on my mind."

"Want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. Maybe - a painful thought, but one she was trying to reconcile - maybe she didn't actually know Ferb as well as she thought, but she definitely knew Phineas. If she told him what she was thinking, he would start by giving his brother the benefit of the doubt, making excuses for his behavior that wouldn't actually make her feel any better. But then he'd go and talk to him about it and who knew how that would turn out? 

No, it was definitely a lose-lose scenario.

"Come on," she said, standing up straighter. "Let's have a look around."

They had just made it into the second room when Phineas said, "Something about this art looks really familiar."

Isabella rolled her eyes fondly. Count on Phineas to be so distracted he completely overlooked the sign at the door.

"Who did you say the artist--"

He didn't so much trail off as his words hit a wall. Confused, Isabella looked up to see he had turned pale, his eyes wide. Following his gaze, she saw Ferb first, standing next to a sculpture but sneaking glances their way. He met her eyes but looked away quickly. Ignoring the ache in her gut, she kept scanning the room, only to see Django in the corner talking to a small group of people.

"Phineas?"

She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He wiped his palms on his jeans. He turned crimson enough to match his hair.

Isabella turned back to see Django wave at them and then it hit her. She burst out laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Ferb crossed the room to stand next to Phineas, raising an eyebrow. Phineas was trying to look annoyed, but his sparkling eyes betrayed him.

"It's not _that_ funny."

She put her empty glass on a tall table near them and put her hands on his shoulders. "Phineas, I love you. But this is _hilarious_."

She slid her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He was still holding his glass, but his free arm circled her waist as he squeezed her close. "Yeah, yeah," he said, but he was smiling.

"I needed that," she mumbled into his neck.

"Glad to be of service." She thought again that his sarcasm could use some work, but she loved that about him. "Can we talk about it later?"

"Sure thing," she said, pulling back. "Don't go anywhere."

"Isabella!"

She waved her reporter's notebook at him as she walked away, towards Django. She had a job to do, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A note I will probably delete once the work is complete, but since I don't know how long it will take me to write the next chapter...)
> 
> Please be patient with me over Phineas's characterization especially, and I ask that you don't jump to any conclusions yet. I finally figured out what I wanted to do with him, but it's going to take more than one chapter to make it happen.


	8. Last Week Was Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas wrestles with his feelings, though...maybe not the ones you'd expect. This is not what he wanted for his birthday.

Phineas couldn't sleep Saturday night, but then again, he usually had trouble sleeping. By Sunday morning, he decided that he was overthinking everything - also not unusual for him - and his reaction to Django was nothing to worry about. Django hadn't been part of their core group, the ones who had only grown closer as they got older, but he had been a good friend to him when they were kids. Wanting to rekindle that wasn't the same thing as an attraction.

By Monday, he'd pushed it completely out of his mind and was happily spending the evening in the backyard with Ferb. Candace had given them a new scrapbook to work with, and the moving sculpture was really coming together.

"We should show Isabella," he said to his brother. "It was her idea after all."

"You should," Ferb agreed. "I'll probably turn in early."

Being only eight, it was certainly odd of him. He could have chalked it up to a headache or Ferb needing some alone time if it weren't for Isabella on Tuesday.

"I was talking to Ferb and-"

"Did Candace say when Jeremy was going to be able to come home? He's stuck with work stuff, right?"

"Umm...next week, I think. She wants their first dance to be choreographed, so Ferb-"

"That reminds me: I've been texting Django since Saturday. Should we invite him to your birthday party?"

He took a deep breath, trying to stave off the panic that hit him like a waterfall. It cascaded as he started trying to determine _why_ that sounded like such a bad idea. He opened his mouth to say something to Isabella, some word vomit that may or may not help him process, but stopped, tilting his head. Weren't they talking about something else?

He didn't remember it until he was sitting on the couch with Ferb the next day. They were talking about end-of-summer plans, if they could throw a party or if that would compete too much with Candace's wedding, when he blurted it out without any preamble.

"Ferb, what's going on with you and Isabella?"

There was a pause, a pregnant silence in which Phineas wondered if he was reading too much into things. But then it was over and Ferb, in a tone that was entirely too measured, said, "What do you mean?"

Phineas wasn't bad at a lot of things, reading body language and social cues being among the few exceptions. If it were anyone else, that simple question would have confirmed that he was incorrect and he'd done a bad thing and pushed a boundary better left alone. 

But this was Ferb. He wasn't confused, he was _guarded_. With Phineas. About Isabella.

Something was very, very wrong. 

The family dinner Thursday wasn't Phineas's idea, but if it was going to happen anyway, he intended to take full advantage. He sat in Candace's usual seat, a calculated move to leave Ferb and Isabella with limited options that all resulted in them next to each other. But Candace ended up between them anyway. 

With the plates cleared away and the family filing out and into the living room, Candace jerked Phineas's arm to pull him back next to her.

"What is up with those two?"

He shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

"If you don't want to tell me-"

"No, I really don't know. Neither of them has said anything to me. I'm just glad you see it too."

Candace scowled, her hands on her hips. "Ugh. They better get it sorted out before my wedding. I will not deal with this kind of awkwardness."

"Your wedding? If they don't figure it out before my party tomorrow, I'll..."

She smirked knowingly. "You'll what?"

He sighed. "Probably nothing. But I hate this."

"I know."

Phineas wasn't sure if Isabella had intended to and changed her mind because of his reaction, or if she had just been teasing him and he'd been too distracted to realize it, but she did not invite Django to his party Friday night. For something he hadn't wanted, he felt oddly disappointed, but he decided that was a concern for future Phineas. Current Phineas was too busy watching his friends and trying to put his finger on the problem.

If he didn't know them better, he might have thought they were back to normal. When the girls led games, they joined in enthusiastically, and Isabella laughed her normal laugh when Buford fell for one of Ferb's fake facts.

But the moment they weren't insulated by the veneer of a group interaction, they bounced apart like two magnets with the negative ends forced together. If there'd been any alcohol, and if he was inclined to that sort of thing, Phineas could have turned it into a drinking game.

The last event of the night was stargazing with a Phineas-and-Ferb twist. From a control panel next to the screen, Ferb switched between images streaming from satellites crosscountry in real time.

He'd been to space several times, but he never tired of the view. The sheer vastness of it quieted his anxiety better than anything else; all of his problems seemed miniscule in comparison.

He glanced from the screen to the people sitting around him. He never tired of this either, having his favorite people all in one place. 

God, he loved birthdays.

He felt a weight on his shoulder and looked over to see Isabella resting her head there, her eyes drifting closed. The pressure matched the warmth growing in his chest and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Not like you to be the first one out, Iz." His brain was buzzing with ideas. After all, her birthday wasn't far away either.

"Sorry," she yawned. "Long week, I guess."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Fighting with friends will do that to you."

"Not fighting," she said.

"Uh huh," he said. He knew her well enough to know she was telling the truth, just not all of it. After all, she hadn't asked who he was talking about.

He looked up to find him, meeting his eyes for just a moment before Ferb turned back to the screen in a hurry.

No, he definitely wasn't imaging the tension there, and he wanted answers.

Phineas only knew one way to deal with a problem: keep trying until he could fix it. 

Saturday, he decided, was the day. Or it would have been, if he hadn't been completely distracted.

Isabella was spending Saturday facilitating the annual Fireside Girls Silent Auction and Bake Sale. Phineas was spending it running the cookie booth. It was quiet, the kind of work that would usually cause his brain to run circles in the other direction, fantasizing about a project he wanted to do or literally anything else. But when Isabella had asked for his help, she had neglected to mention that the cookie booth was right next to a local artist selling his own work - an artist he had managed to avoid thinking about but who was now Current Phineas's problem.

And the _problem_ \- he took a sip of water, glancing over to see Django chatting with a customer - was that he was just as nice as he was when they were kids. And creative, his brain working on a different wavelength than Phineas's that he found fascinating. And when he got talking about art, his eyes lit up and-

Yeah, Phineas was in trouble. And confused.

If he was interested in men...shouldn't that have come up before? Was he actually interested, or did he just want to rekindle the friendship? It's not like he was the only one he wanted to listen to get passionate about something - matter of fact, that list was long and included everyone in his family, Isabella, and a couple of kids he'd babysat for once or twice. Hearing someone be passionate about something was _always_ awesome.

Not thinking about him this week had been easy. Shouldn't it have been harder if it was actually a crush?

But now that the boy was in front of him, his heart was definitely pounding. Phineas groaned.

"Everything okay?

"Oh yeah." He chuckled, embarrassedly. "Just...hit a wall."

"I can cover your booth if you need to get some coffee or fresh air or something."

He nodded. "That would be great, actually. You need anything?"

"I'm good. Thanks though."

Phineas hoped his smile looked normal, but he certainly _felt_ awkward. When he found Isabella, he gripped her forearm to steady himself.

"What was the point of this?"

"To raise money for a good cause?"

He crossed his arms, giving her his best 'yeah, right' glare. He wasn't as good as Ferb, but she got the message.

"Fine. I thought you could use more data."

"What do you mean?"

"Phineas, let's be honest: you're not...the _best_ at identifying emotions. Stands to reason that you'll learn more about them the more time you spend with them. Think of it as an experiment. No, as research."

He considered it. "That's...reasonable."

"Another half hour and we get milkshakes. You can handle that long, right?"

"Fine."

Turns out, he could not. By the time Isabella came to collect him, he'd asked Django for his number - casually, he hoped, though his sweaty palms didn't help the illusion.

"Wow," Isabella teased, sitting across from him in their booth. "You work fast."

"The thing is, I still don't know if I _like_ him or I just think he's cool. I mean, sure my stomach gets a _little_ flip-floppy, but-"

"Phineas, what do you think 'butterflies in your stomach' means?"

He shrugged.

"What you _should_ do," she continued, dipping a fry into her shake, "is invite him to some group thing. Gives you a chance to get to know him better without any extra pressure. Process your feelings. Maybe even practice flirting a little, if you want."

"Except I'm dating _you_."

"Even better! He won't suspect anything, so if you decide you _do_ like him, you'll have time to process it without needing to do anything about it."

"Won't it look weird? Me flirting with somebody else? You don't think it'll blow the whole thing?"

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I said 'try' flirting, Phin. I suffer no delusion that you'll get it right on the first try."

He shook his head, matching her tone. "You're a real 'glass-half-full' kind of girl, aren't you?"

"Gee, I wonder where I get _that_ from."

"Ferb says-"

"Hey, did I mention how much I appreciated you helping out today? The Django thing was an added bonus, of course, but I seriously don't know how I would have staffed that table if you hadn't been there."

He took a long sip of his shake. "All right. What happened? Did you two get into a fight or something?"

He almost regretted it, watching her shoulders sag. "What did Ferb say?"

"That I'm reading too much into it, but he also changes the subject every time your name comes up, so. Out with it."

She bit her lip, considering. "Not much to say, really. I guess we're just-" she shrugged "-growing apart."

"Isabella," Phineas scolded.

"I don't know, okay? He didn't tell me anything! Just started acting weird all of a sudden."

That sort of outburst from anyone else would have blown him back. Here, with Isabella, he pushed what was left of the fries across the table towards her. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

She shook her head. "I don't want you to feel like you're caught in the middle."

He tugged on his ear. He wasn't great at identifying emotions, and even worse at explaining them, but 'caught in the middle' wasn't right at all. Watching her and Ferb fighting - not even fighting, just not acting like _Ferb and Isabella_ \- was enough to make him feel...what? Heartbroken? Lost? A sick sort of hopeless? He couldn't quite say, but he did know that he would be glad to be 'caught in the middle' if it would fix it.

"It's no trouble."

She smiled without showing her teeth, her eyes wet. "It's okay," she said. "I'll...I'll talk to him. Don't worry about it."

He sucked down the last of his shake so he wouldn't have to respond. Whatever he was feeling was way past worry, and it wouldn't go away until his best friends were all right again. Knowing he couldn't help only made the feeling worse.


	9. Hand Over Heart, I'm Praying (That I Make It Out Alive)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferb didn't think this was going to be so damn hard. Fortunately for him, he has people who love him and force him to recognize the true consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there aren't any typos, because I cannot look at this chapter any more.

One second Ferb was squinting up into the engine block; the next, he was blinking into the fluorescent light partially blocked by Buford’s bulk.

“Yo. Guys’ night out. I’m driving.”

He narrowed his eyes at him briefly before reaching under the car and dragging himself under. Buford yanked him back out.

“Dude. Me and Baljeet haven’t seen you in weeks.”

He raised an eyebrow. Buford rolled his eyes.

“Fine, yes, we saw you at Phineas’s birthday party. But you were busy. It’s Taco Tuesday and Izzy’s on a date with your brother, which means I can order whatever the hell I want and she can’t give me shit about it. Let’s  _ go _ .”

He glared.

“You missed the pool party Sunday.”

Ferb shrugged. Last summer, Isabella practically hosted a pool party every time she had a day off work. She’d drag Ferb in to be her partner for Chicken or challenge him to a diving contest, splashing him and shit-talking him until he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her under. There was no way he was going this year. 

He gestured to the car, the same excuse he’d used to get out of family time all weekend, but Buford huffed in disbelief.

“Okay,  _ look _ : I wasn’t going to say anything, but I know these last few weeks have been rough for you.”

He blinked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Sure, you’re totally cool with your two best friends dating.”

“Phineas and Isabella belong together,” he said, his voice even. “Why would it bother me?”

“Besides the obvious?” Buford mumbled. Louder, he said, “Change is always hard.” 

Ferb’s gaping expression felt especially undignified under Buford’s hard stare, but then his gaze softened and he held his hand out to him.

“We don’t have to talk about it. But you can’t cut yourself off from everyone, brother. It’s not healthy.”

He took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I won’t be as critical as Isabella, but I draw the line at m-and-m’s,” he said pointedly.

“Fine.”

“Give me a moment to get cleaned up.”

By the time he got out to the driveway, Buford’s truck was already running. From outside, all he heard was the engine backfiring and bass pumping. When the door opened, the music morphed into Puccini.

Hoisting himself into the cab next to Baljeet, Ferb nodded towards the windshield.

“Isabella said she would take care of it this weekend.”

He nodded and settled in for the drive.

Sometimes Ferb wondered what kind of friends he would have wound up with had his father not married his mum when he did. Even that young, he tended to prefer a book or a puzzle to a playmate. Phineas was the first one he met who could keep up with his mind and then challenge him a step further so that he never got bored. He was the first kid he met that didn’t mind that he didn’t talk so much - he could talk enough for the both of them. He became the bridge between him and the others.

Still, he thought. In that bleak alternate universe where he’d never met Phineas, he would eventually have made friends. He and Baljeet could have found each other in a science class, two geniuses finally meeting their match. Isabella would have been even more entrenched with the Fireside Girls, but who knows? Maybe he would have noticed her reading a book he liked and managed to work up the courage to start a conversation about it.

There was no scenario he could imagine that led to him meeting Buford. Which would have been a shame, because Buford was a surprisingly good friend. 

True to his word, Buford carefully steered the guys’ night conversation away from anything Phineas-and-Isabella related, pretending to be annoyed when Ferb and Baljeet spent a half-hour discussing their latest black hole theories. Ferb wouldn’t say he felt  _ good  _ when the check came, but he certainly felt less empty.

The effect was ruined when they pulled up to find Phineas and Isabella sitting together on their porch.

“Phineas,” Baljeet said, glaring down at him. “You will not believe what your brother had to say about black holes! I almost--”

Isabella shook her head, offering him her spot as she made her way to Buford’s truck.

“That sounds way worse than it did Friday. Are you sure it can wait until the weekend?”

Buford shrugged. “You’re the expert. How was date night?”

“It was fun. How was Guys’ Night?”

“The tacos were delicious.”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Did you put olives on yours again?”

He was grinning smugly with his arms crossed. “And cheddar cheese.”

She huffed. “At least it wasn’t m-and-m’s this time.”

“Eh,” he said with a shrug. “Ferb wouldn’t let me.”

“Thank goodness for Ferb.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as she caught Ferb’s eyes and he looked away quickly.

“Actually, Ferb…” she said, kicking at the dirt. “Could you pick me up from work tomorrow? Mom’s got a late meeting and Marissa’s working on a story so she probably won't leave when I do.”

Ferb looked to Phineas instead of answering, but his brother was waving his hands wildly, a sure sign that he was completely enthralled in a conversation. He turned to Buford, but his only response was to raise his eyebrow. 

“Of course,” he said finally. “Five?”

“Yes please.”

He knocked on Phineas’s door at 4:30, holding up his keys.

“I’d rather not.”

“Do you at least want to come with me?”

Phineas tilted his head to the side. “What’s going on with you and Isabella?”

“Nothing,” he said immediately. “Just thought you’d want to spend time with her.”

He shrugged. “I saw her last night.” He watched his brother in earnest but, when he didn’t respond, finally added, “You’re going to have to face her eventually.”

“I’m not-”

“I know I can be a little oblivious, but I know  _ something’s  _ wrong. Plus, Isabella’s upset, and the Ferb I know would never stand for that, so…” He blinked. “I can’t remember where that sentence was going exactly, but you need to fix it.”

Ferb’s whole body felt tense as Phineas glared at him, but it only got worse when he sighed. 

“And bro...you haven’t been happy either. So if she did something, if you’re mad...you gotta talk it out.”

The drive wasn’t long enough for him to untangle all of it.

Of course he wasn’t happy, but he hadn’t expected to be. He had expected to have a better poker face. Didn’t he have a better poker face than this? Meanwhile, he had expected Isabella would be so thrilled she was finally dating Phineas that he’d become a footnote anyway. 

He was still thinking it through when she opened the passenger’s door and slid inside.

“Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

He shook his head. He turned the key in the ignition, wincing at the sound.

“You’re flooding it,” she deadpanned.

“I’m not-” He sighed and tried again, the engine roaring to life.

They drove a few minutes in complete silence, passing the mall and the building shaped like his head. He eased off the gas as they pulled up at an intersection.

“Were we only friends because you were waiting for Phineas and me to get together?”

The car screeched to a halt as his foot found the break. He turned to look at her but she was staring out the window, her chin in her palm.

“I knew you wanted us together, but I always thought you and I had our own thing. Then that all changed when I started dating Phineas.”

“A good change,” he reminded her.

She whipped around to face him, her dark hair flying. “No this is  _ not  _ a good change! I miss you!”

He swallowed roughly.

“Your light’s green.”

He eased on the gas. They were maybe five minutes from the house now. He kept his voice even. “When Marissa said-”

“I knew it! I knew this was about Marissa!”

“She was right, is all. You’re dating my brother. We shouldn’t give the appearance of-”

“Did Phineas say something to you?”

He was forced to shake his head.

“Of course not! Because he knows that’s just the way we  _ are _ .”

“Which was fine before you were dating Phineas, but now it looks--”

“Since when do you care about how things  _ look _ ?”

He clamped his mouth shut because he didn’t have an answer for her. 

“I want you and Phineas to be happy,” he said finally.

“Yeah, I’m real happy.” She shook her head, teeth clenched. “Pull over.”

He’d just turned onto their street, but he did. She shifted in her seat to face him fully. Every muscle screamed for him to reach out to her, but he merely turned his head.

“You said Phineas and I belonged together. And everyone knows Phineas-and-Ferb is this unbreakable, unmatchable force. But I really thought Phineas-and-Ferb-and-Isabella was pretty unbreakable too.”

“Isabella…”

“If you’re just going to see me as Phineas’s girlfriend…” She sighed. “If you’re more worried about what our relationship looks like than what it actually is, then maybe it just wasn’t as important as I thought it was.”

She snatched her purse out of the floorboard and slammed the door shut behind her. The Garcia-Shapiro house was four houses away, and she didn’t look back once.

Ferb eased the car home by inches. He was in a fog as he parked, as he made his way into the house, as he sat in the dining room and held his head in his hands.

“Rough day?”

He glared at her, he just didn’t have the energy to maintain it, so he dropped his head back into his hands.

“Okay, Ferb. I can see the platypus in the fedora.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t change the subject mister.” Candace sighed. “You don’t have to tell Phineas or Isabella, or anybody else. But here, in this room, can we acknowledge that you and I know the truth?”

His shoulders drooped. He nodded. His sister crossed the room and pulled out the chair opposite him. “What happened?”

He swallowed thickly, unsure where to begin. “Isabella...is upset.”

“Did Phineas do something wrong?”

He rubbed at his temples to get rid of his sudden headache.

“Did  _ you  _ do something wrong?”

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Finally, he said, “She thinks I don’t want to be friends with her now that she’s dating Phineas.”

“Is that true?”

He rolled his eyes.

“What? You love her. She’s dating your brother. It can’t be  _ easy _ .”

He chortled in agreement. “I thought it would be best to let them have their space.”

“Did they ask you to do that?”

Slowly, he shook his head.

“Is there a chance you weren’t thinking about them so much and were actually trying to protect yourself?”

He blinked at her.

“There’s nothing wrong with that Ferb,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with distancing yourself so you have a chance to move on. But if you do that, you’ll have to accept that, when you are ready to be friends again, there may be Phineas and Ferb and Phineas and Isabella and you might be just her boyfriend’s brother and not her best friend in the world.”

He leaned back in his chair. “What if I don’t want to accept that?”

“Then I think you have to tell her.”

His eyes went wide.

“Not that you love her!” she said quickly, holding her hands up. “Now is  _ not  _ the time.” Under her breath, she said, “The time was last summer.”

Ferb looked up at the ceiling, exasperated.

Candace continued, “Tell her that this has been an adjustment, but she’s important to you and your friendship’s important to you, and you want it back.”

He swallowed.  _ What if she doesn’t believe me? _

Candace smirked. “You’re a man of action, Ferb. Prove it.”

The chair legs scraped noisily against the tiles as he stood. He was at the door before he thought to turn around. He nodded and then, to make sure she knew what he meant, he said, “Thank you Candace.”

She smirked. “Don’t get mushy on me now, Fletcher.”

He chuckled, but his smile fell when he stood in front of Isabella’s door. She said nothing as she opened it, just crossed her arms and glared at him. He gulped.

“I need your help.”

“I’m kinda busy.”

“We can do it Saturday, but I have to finish the car by next week.”

She squeezed the bridge of her nose, and it broke his heart because she only did that when she was trying not to cry.

“Ferb!” His brother was grinning as he came into the foyer behind her. “You come to watch Space Adventures with us?”

As he answered, his eyes never left Isabella’s. “If I’m invited.”

“He wants you to help him with the car,” she said flatly, turning to leave the room. 

Ferb shook his head, and she paused long enough for him to step forward. Holding her gaze, he said, “Phineas has offered, but-”

“I’m not the one in trouble,” his brother interrupted. Ferb peered over Isabella’s shoulder to see him holding his hands up in surrender. “You can throw me under the bus if you need to.”

“Phineas has offered,” he repeated, “but we always do joint gifts and I wanted this year’s to be just from me.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to take the bait. She failed. “I knew it was for someone important.”

Ferb nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, looking at his brother pointedly. Isabella turned to follow his gaze and couldn’t help but giggle as Phineas turned red.

“I’m just gonna...go make popcorn.”

“Thanks Phin,” she called as he disappeared into the kitchen. Readjusting her stern expression, she turned back to Ferb.

“I wanted to give you two space.”

“Nobody asked you to do that!”

“You never had to ask.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Well, you did your job. Phineas and I are together, and you and I-”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “-Are friends. And an excellent team. Come help me on Saturday.”

She bit her lip, tilting her head as she considered it. “Wait...it has to be done by next week?”

He nodded once. She blinked.

“There’s nothing next week except... _ my  _ birthday’s next week.”

He nodded again.

She gasped in slow motion, slapping his arm. “You were going to make it slower than yours!”

“But safer,” he pointed out.

“If you can’t make it safe  _ and  _ exciting then your name isn’t Ferbian Fletcher.”

He grinned. He was almost forgiven. “It would be easier if I had the help of the best mechanic I know.”

Her blue eyes were wary, but they were dry and that was all the encouragement he needed.

“I thought I was ready,” he confessed. “I’ve been waiting for you two to be together since we were ten, and I thought I knew what that looked like. Turns out it was a bigger adjustment than I was prepared for and I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry.”

“Wow,” she said. “A full four sentences. You really are sorry.”

He scrunched his nose at her as she stepped aside to let him in the house. With the door closed behind him, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest. He felt her whole body relax against him and squeezed her tight.

“I missed you,” she whispered into his shirt.

“I missed you too,” he admitted, so close that his lips brushed against her hair. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

He felt a twinge of guilt and pushed it away - it may not have been the full truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. With his chin still pressed against her shoulder, he looked up to see Phineas with a bowl and a mouth full of popcorn.

“So are you two friends again?”

He nodded without lifting his head. Phineas sighed in relief.

“Good, because both of you have been  _ so  _ grumpy these last couple weeks, and I am over it.”

Isabella laughed. Pulling back, she swiped a tear away but she was smiling brightly. “Stay for the movie?”

Ferb nodded. As the three of them settled into the couch, Isabella sat, cross-legged, in the center.


	10. You've Got Wings, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella spends more time with Ferb and that feeling in her chest she still can't define.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Been a minute, huh?
> 
> I'm back at work, plus I've been trying to prioritize my original novel (I finished a first draft, y'all! I'm really proud of that!), which is why this has taken so much longer than the last chapter. 
> 
> I want to say this: I can't promise a time-table or scheduled updates, but I can and DO promise that I'm going to finish this. You'll have to be patient with me, but I won't leave you hanging.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading.

“All right, Ferb.” Isabella dismounted the step ladder and wiped her hands on an old rag. “Start it up.”

He turned the key in the ignition, pumping a fist in the air when it sang. Isabella grinned. It had taken longer than expected, but Buford’s truck was in perfect condition. And, in a perfect coincidence, Buford was walking up the drive.

“How’s it going?”

Ferb held up a single thumb. Isabella held a hand over her eyes to keep the sun out as she squinted up at him. “We replaced the brakes too. Did you not hear that horrible grinding sound they were making?”

“No…”

“I can attest that it’s difficult to hear anything at the volume he plays his music.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms. “Weren’t you supposed to hear about your school thing by now?”

“Oh,” she said after taking a long sip of water. “I did.”

Ferb turned to look at her, holding his hands out in his favorite ‘what the hell’ gesture.

“And?” Buford added when Ferb’s prompting did nothing.

She shrugged. “I got in.”

Ferb raised an eyebrow.

“No, I am,” she assured him. “It’s going to be great. But Professor Mcnamara said again how she’s hoping I’ll major in archeology, and I guess the pressure’s starting to get to me. I just don’t know what I want.”

Buford rolled his eyes. “Sure, Pink. Keys?”

“Ferb has them.”

He glared, clutching them in his hand and away from Buford.

“I can’t understand you when you talk like that.”

Isabella giggled. “He just thinks that was rude and the least you could do is thank us.”

Buford smirked. “Geez, Ferb.” He shoved his arm but there was no real force behind it. “Cut me some slack.”

Smiling, Isabella shook her head. “Always a pleasure, Buford.”

He winked. “Ditto. See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Next to her, Ferb slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Why tomorrow?”

Buford stammered something incoherent, but Ferb just sighed.

“Birthday stuff?”

He nodded.

“Was supposed to be a surprise?”

He nodded again.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything then.”

He smiled -  _ that’d be best _ \- and walked into the garage for another water as Buford climbed into his truck.

“Yo Buford!” Isabella called over the Puccini he really was playing at a horrendous volume. He turned it down - barely - as she hoisted herself up on the step. “Could you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Invite Django to the party.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I still talk to him?”

“Please. He told me about the performance piece he did last month to the music of Koanga. I  _ know  _ you saw it every night it was open.”

“You’re gonna ruin my reputation,” he sighed. “Fine. I’ll invite him.”

“Thank you,” she said, satisfied, as she jumped down and made her own way into the garage. She paused at the open door, staring at the car before her with slightly glazed eyes.

“It really is beautiful,” she breathed when she noticed Ferb watching her.

He dangled the keys in front of her, his eyes showing an imploring vulnerability. He rarely asked for anyone’s approval, but this time he was asking for hers. She couldn’t quite name the feeling cracking in her chest, so she stopped trying and surged forward to hug him instead. He gave her an odd look when she pulled away, but she just took the keys.

“Let’s go,” she said when he didn’t immediately follow her to the car.

For a moment, it felt strange to see Ferb on the passenger’s side. The second she turned the key and the engine roared to life, nothing felt more natural. Glancing between her rear-view mirror and the back-up cam on the dash, she eased the car out of the garage and into the road. The cool leather steering wheel was perfectly molded to her hands and the pedals seemed to respond more to her thoughts than her foot. 

They never decided to go to their favorite deli. Isabella just felt her stomach growl and found herself following the path she saw Ferb drive a dozen times the summer before. She sat in the car a few more seconds after killing the engine, soaking in how good it felt that it was  _ hers _ . With reluctance, she finally got out when her stomach growled again.

The regret had vanished by the time they stepped back out of the deli and into the sun, Ferb carrying their trays to the patio table in front of her car 

“It’s a better translation, certainly, but I still find the whole story to be rambling and pointless.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she said, taking the pickle from his plate. “To provide some whimsy to an otherwise bleak endeavor.”

“Death, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

Something itched in the back of her mind, she just couldn’t get a handle on it. She prided herself on her multi-tasking skills, but between eating and talking and fighting off the anxiety that the rolling in her stomach meant she was getting sick, she was hard pressed to come up with any answers. She didn’t know how much time passed before they got back in the car and Ferb checked his watch.

“You got somewhere to be, Fletcher?”

“No, but you do.”

She cursed as she noticed the dashboard clock. The girls would be arriving for her birthday sleepover in an hour, and she still needed to take a bath and straighten her room. But still...she shrugged.

“A  _ few  _ more minutes won’t hurt…”

He didn’t object as she turned the car away from the tall buildings and busy streets to get to a long, wide road where one could see for miles in all directions. Then she hit the gas.

A thing most people didn’t understand about her boys: they weren’t fearless. Phineas had anxiety over many things Isabella didn’t think twice about, like new groups of people and extemporaneous speaking. He’d managed to get his driver’s license but only drove when impossible to avoid. He went still when he saw a dog bigger than Pinky.

Ferb’s fears were harder to define. She knew that, as little as he cared what most people thought of him, he couldn’t stand the thought of letting down his family. She knew that ‘failure’ was a dirty word to him. And she knew he went white-knuckled gripping the safety bar when she dragged him onto the ferris wheel last summer.

“Seriously?” she’d asked him. “The ferris wheel you and Phineas built for our graduation party was at  _ least  _ twice as high!”

“And built by me and Phineas,” he reminded her. 

So when she glanced over to find he had sunk into the seat, a carefree smile on his face, she knew more than that he was enjoying himself. She knew he was enjoying himself because he had complete and total confidence in what he had created. 

“Hey, Ferb? Just out of curiosity...what would happen if I was about to hit something?”

He smirked, and it was amazing how many different nuances he had for one expression. This one she recognized most from high school:  _ I dare you _ . She turned off the road and slammed the brakes, even that more smooth than coasting in most cars she’d ever driven. Ferb raised his eyebrow. Isabella raised her hand.

She hadn’t thought anything of it, but the way he stared made her want to squirm in her seat. Finally, after Isabella had time to catalog every reason this was a terrible idea, he slipped his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers.

Her instinct was to brush her thumb over the skin it rested on, down to his wrist, and she forced her brain to think of something, anything else. She focused on the physical sensation of it - his skin was cool and soft except where the calluses had formed just under his index finger and on the side of his thumb from where he gripped his tools. But this also turned out to be a bad thing to think about, because her mind kept straying. She knew he had other calluses too, calluses on his fingertips from his years playing guitar, and her mind flashed with the image of those fingertips ghosting over bare skin. She shuddered.

Ferb was still staring.

“I’m gonna trust you,” she said, carefully balancing her tone between stern and an airiness she didn’t feel. Ferb just nodded.

With one hand on the wheel and one in Ferb’s, Isabella pressed the accelerator to the floor. It didn’t speed up as quickly as Ferb’s car, but it still made it to 60 miles per hour in a matter of seconds.

She tried not to lose her nerve as the barn got bigger and bigger. Glancing over at Ferb, she realized he wasn’t worried at all. So she decided not to be either.

They were a few feet from the barn when she felt the same weightlessness she loved about roller coasters.

They were in the air.

“It  _ flies _ ?”

He shrugged, a general ‘what did you expect,’ but his smug smile and shining eyes gave him away. He was proud of his creation, and the response it elicited.

“That’s only because of how fast you were going,” he said. “If you’d been about to hit something more slowly, it just would’ve auto-braked.”

“And if someone was about to hit me?”

“It’s programmed to calculate the best protocol based on their speed, your speed, and your surroundings. Flying is one of the options. However, so is simply moving you out of the way or inflating the back bumper.”  
“You thought of everything, huh?”

“Mainly one thing repeatedly,” he admitted.

“What was that?”

He paused before he spoke, a silence she recognized as he considered his words carefully. “I simply refused to see you get hurt if it was in my power to prevent it.”

Isabella was grateful for the flying car and the task of finding a good place to land just then - it meant she didn’t have to face Ferb and the intensity she just knew was in his eyes. Her face started to burn as she realized she was still holding his hand. She let go to put both hands on the wheel.

They were silent until they landed.

“You know,” she said, eyes fixed on the road as she carefully maneuvered them towards their neighborhood, “I do appreciate that, and that you want me to be happy. But sometimes it’s like you’ve already decided what that means instead of listening when I tell you what I want.”

“We will fix the acceleration,” he conceded.

She glanced over for just a moment. He was looking out the window, his shoulders tense. She sighed as she pulled into his driveway, turning to open the door, but he put his hand on her wrist. 

Their eyes met in earnest. When he was looking at her like this, she found it remarkable that anyone thought he was difficult to read. Just now he was looking at her with a strong mix of determination and contrition, an apology accompanied by a promise that he would do better. He didn’t have to say it, she just knew. Or maybe he  _ was  _ saying it, but in a language only the two of them spoke. It was why the last few weeks had felt so difficult, so lonely. Not being able to read Ferb was like not being able to hear her own voice.

She smiled, and the acceptance relaxed him enough to let her go. 

“Phineas!” she called, crossing the front yard to where he sat on the stoop. “The car is  _ amazing _ . You’ve got to--”

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”

He shook his head. “I will do a lot of things for you Isabella, but I know how you drive-” he pointed to her, then to Ferb walking up behind her, “-and I know how  _ you  _ build cars. Not gonna happen.”

“It’s perfectly safe.”

“Of course it is,” he agreed with his brother. “But my stomach doesn’t know that.”

“Says the guy who built spaceships and roller coasters and, oh yeah,  _ race cars  _ when we were ten.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Oh, wait - yeah I do. Candace wanted me to ask if you got your shoes.”

“Sh...no.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the screen. “I definitely don’t have time before the girls start showing up. I guess I could go tomorrow…”

“No!”

Ferb smacked his forehead again.

“I just mean…” Phineas stammered.

“I can do it,” Ferb interrupted.

Isabella blinked. “Would you?”

“I’m not busy. Just text me what I need to know. Then you don’t have to tell Candace you forgot.”

Her shoulders fell in relief. “Ferb, you’re a lifesaver,” she said, tapping away at her screen. “But when will we--”

“Whenever you want,” he assured her. “Bring it by after work or we’ll plan for next Saturday or...whenever.”

She nodded appreciatively. “Okay. Thank you. I guess I’ll see you both tomorrow?”

Crossing the street, she had to fight the urge to glance back. It didn’t help that she didn’t know why she so badly wanted to.


	11. Thinking in a Bad Way, Losing Your Grip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phineas is oblivious to...well, everything. Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I'd get you guys a chapter by the end of the month. Next month is my birthday, so maybe you'll get a whole TWO chapters.
> 
> Also, I wanted to give Baljeet more of a role in this chapter (and in the story) but I have no idea what to do with him! It's driving me up a wall.

To tell the truth, Phineas was enjoying Isabella’s birthday party better than his own. For starters, the set-up had been more fun. Instead of Ferb waving him off and insisting he  _ relax,  _ they’d worked together this time, building carnival rides and games to fill the yard. Now he was spending half the party talking with friends and the other half checking on machinery. Ferb was better at the fine-tuning, but he knew his way around a wrench.

Speaking of his brother - he was currently dancing with the birthday girl, both of them grinning broadly. Phineas had been watching them carefully since their movie night, nervous that whatever had gotten between them - because Ferb  _ still  _ wouldn’t just tell him what had happened - would creep back up. But no. After spending all day with her in the garage, Ferb had spent the evening going on and on about Isabella’s mechanic skills and the dig she was going on and how well she was doing at the paper. This morning, he had gone to get her shoes and spent a good twenty minutes chatting when he dropped them off, if his absence at party set-up was any indication. And now, as they danced, Isabella’s smile was brighter than the tiara glittering atop her head.

Yes, everything was right in the world, and he relaxed against the siding to take it all in. He heard the screen door slide open and shut and glanced over to find Jeremy standing next to him.

“Man, you and Ferb sure know how to throw a party.”

They bumped fists. “Glad you made it.”

“Sorry I missed yours. We were under contract, and…”

“No worries,” Phineas interrupted. “You’ll catch the next one.”

“I really hope it’s going to be good weather day of the wedding. I always have the best time in this backyard.”

“We tried to tell Candace we could make an all-weather covering…”

“She’s anxious enough about this day without worrying about some ‘Mysterious Force.’ I tried to tell her things change, but then she goes off on some rant about you and Isabella...congratulations, by the way. She’s great.”

“She is,” Phineas agreed, and he didn’t have to fake the awe in his voice.

He remembered freshman year, when some random classmate had asked him about the ‘girls back home’ and he’d misunderstood and started rambling about Isabella. When the guy asked how long they’d been dating, Phineas blanched.

“No, no,” he’d said, and maybe he should have noticed how Ferb was watching him, that steely gaze giving nothing away but not missing anything either. “She’s my friend.”

“Just a friend?” The guy had raised an eyebrow, and Phineas had been quick to shake his head.

“Not  _ just _ ,” he’d told him. “My  _ best  _ friend.”

Phineas had difficulty understanding his reaction, insisting that they could be  _ more  _ than that. As far as Phineas could tell, dating wasn’t  _ better _ , it was just  _ different _ .

But then, what did he know? He’d never been interested in dating beyond a cursory curiosity that hadn’t led to anything.

“Hey, can I…”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow while Phineas took a deep breath.

“How’d you know that Candace was ‘the One’?”

He considered this. “I don’t think I’d call her ‘the One,’ exactly.”

Phineas’s jaw dropped, but Jeremy rushed ahead before he could think of something to say. “Mainly because I don’t really believe in that. Sorry, that sounded bad. What I mean is...I love Candace. I don’t want anybody else. But at least half of that is that we decided to build a life together and then we did.”

Phineas’s eyes were on Isabella in the backyard, but he was seeing her older, in a house, reading in an armchair next to an open window. He was seeing her shoes next to the door, her purse on a hook by the closet. It wasn’t like it was a _bad_ image. Didn’t most people say they married their best friend?  
“What about the other half?”

“Okay, yeah. Maybe we never stood a chance. When we broke up-”

“ _ What _ ?”

Jeremy took in his wide eyes and chuckled. “Candace didn’t tell you? It was our last year of college, while she was applying for law school. We didn’t want to do long distance but we also weren’t sure if we wanted to base life decisions on somebody else. So we decided not to see each other, but we couldn’t stay away. Then we decided to be just friends, but…” He trailed off, looking a little sheepish. “But we  _ wanted  _ to be something else. So if that’s what you mean by the One, then yeah, but if we’d decided differently, we probably would have moved on. Eventually. I mean, look at your parents, right?”

Phineas nodded, but he wasn’t sure he really understood. His parents were so right together that sometimes he forgot anyone had come first. As curious as he was about everything else, he’d never asked about that. Lawrence was his dad. Ferb was his brother. Full stop.

The way Jeremy brought this up, he wondered if Candace felt differently. If she remembered the man who was, biologically, their father, and if that affected the way she saw the world. Maybe, one day, he’d ask.

Now, he ran a hand through his hair, hoping to reset his brain. These were decidedly not fun thoughts. He tried to drag his attention back to the party. Isabella was giggling, standing in a circle with the former Fireside Girls. Buford and Baljeet were by the refreshments. Ferb…

Ferb was with a girl. One Phineas didn’t recognize and certainly hadn’t invited. Had he brought a date? Really?

Phineas couldn’t shake the feeling that it seemed...well,  _ wrong. _ Sure, when summer started, he’d told Isabella they should find him somebody. And it wasn’t like he’d had anyone in mind, but...no, he didn’t like this. Surely, though, it was just because he didn’t know her, so he excused himself from the conversation with Jeremy and made his way across the yard. Ferb raised an eyebrow but said nothing as they fist-bumped.

“Hey Phineas!” the girl said, and Phineas almost winced as he considered that this  _ may  _ have been a terrible idea. “Good to see you again.”

“Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t-”

“Yeah, high school feels like a million years ago, doesn’t it? Marissa,” she prompted.

“Oh! Isabella said you two were working together at the paper.”

“Yeah, I was at her slumber party last night and she said I could tag along. Hope it’s okay that I crashed.”

“Of course.” Phineas shrugged. “It’s  _ her  _ party.”

She grinned - she really was very pretty, Ferb had good tastes - and he found himself smiling back. His brother looked between the two of them briefly, his jaw clenched.

What? Was he worried he was going to embarrass him?

“I’m really glad to be working with her,” she continued. “She always seemed nice back then, but we didn’t really click. I’m glad we got a second chance.”

“She likes working with you too. Although I should probably warn you that she’s planning to fight you for some big sports thing at the end of the summer.”

Marissa rolled her eyes good-naturedly, flipping her curls over her shoulder. “She won’t have to fight that hard. She’s  _ wildly _ talented.”

“We did know that,” Ferb chimed in.

The three of them talked a few more minutes, now about how they’d been enjoying college. Once Phineas got started talking about his major, it was difficult for him to stop, but he found himself trailing off as she smirked at him.

“Sorry.”

“No, no. You’re just a  _ lot  _ more confident than you were in high school. Looks good on you.”

Phineas scratched the back of his head, his lips pursed. That seemed like a weird thing to say. He had anxiety problems sometimes, but he wouldn’t call himself  _ insecure _ . And, if anything, his anxiety had gotten worse as it felt like the stakes rose. He wasn’t sure he’d say he was  _ more  _ confident now.

The good news was that his brother was no longer watching him with tense shoulders as if waiting for the worst. In fact, he waved and walked across the yard to join Buford and Baljeet. Phineas scanned the yard again, just in time to catch the gate swing open behind Marissa. He froze.

Marissa must not have noticed that all the blood drained from his face. She just followed his gaze and smiled. “Django’s here! Isabella said he was coming.”

Phineas swallowed, heat spreading up his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “Yeah, I’m just gonna…”

He didn’t finish the thought - wasn’t sure how - and immediately found his way over to Isabella.

“You could have told me he was coming,” he hissed. She shrugged.

“How would I know? It was a surprise party. Talk to Buford.”

For a moment, he wondered if he was going to be sick. Then Django was there  _ in front of him  _ and he was pretty sure he would be.

“Happy birthday!”

He was trying so hard not to stare, but Django had pulled his shaggy brown hair into a pony-tail and his eyes were dark but warm and he wore a short-sleeved white button down that hung loosely over a blue tank top and a pair of paint-splattered jeans. One hand rested in his pocket while the other dangled a rectangular package by his side. 

“Thanks Django.” Isabella stepped forward to hug him - how did she  _ do  _ that _ \-  _ and he returned it one-armed. “Glad you made it.”

“You kidding? And miss out on a Phineas-and-Ferb bash?”

Dear. God. Did he just  _ wink  _ at him?

Isabella’s smile was far too pleased. “They really outdid themselves, huh? Just wait until you taste the cake Ferb made.”

That brought him back. “Hang on. How have you already tasted the cake?”

She rolled her eyes. “ _ Please _ . I can smell red velvet from a mile away, and even Ferb can’t say no to the puppy-dog pout.”

“Okay, seriously, that thing belongs on some kind of registry.”

Isabella’s giggle made him happy, just like it always did, but he only noticed for a second because Django  _ laughed. _ He laughed, and Phineas’s entire stomach flipped over. His fingers itched to reach out and he had the wildest image of swallowing his laugh and any other sound he might make.

He turned back to face Isabella. He’d thought about kissing her before. He’d thought about a lot of things, but only in an abstractly curious way, never in a way that made heat pool in his gut, never in a way that made him  _ want _ .

_ I don’t want anybody else,  _ Jeremy had said. Was this what he meant?

Isabella was sweetly clasping her hands in front of her. “I don’t mean to be rude, but...it  _ is  _ my birthday.”

Django chuckled again and held the package out to her. “You’re right, you’re right. Go ahead.”

She ripped off the wrapping as Phineas peered over her shoulder, both of them gasping at the same time while a wad of paper fell to the grass beneath them.

“Seeing the three of you at the gallery...I got inspired.”

It was indeed the three of them in their outfits from that night. Their faces were blurred but he’d captured the creases in the boys’ slacks, the silk of Isabella’s dress. The slightly abstract depiction was juxtaposed by the hyperrealistic background he’d place them in. A yard - this yard - so real you could practically see the wind blowing through the grass. The fence was lower, the tree taller, and their ankles were wrapped in green stalks sprouting…

“How’d you know sunflowers were my favorite?” she asked softly.

He shrugged. “I didn’t. Just fit.”

“Because they’re happy,” Phineas reasoned, glancing away from the art to see how the artist’s eyes danced with the opportunity to talk about his work.

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, no offense Isabella, but you definitely seemed to be having a bad night that night.”

Phineas furrowed his brow as he looked over to her. She was watching Django, expectant but not confused. So it  _ had  _ been a bad night.

How had he missed that?

“But - and literally no one cares about flower meanings anymore except artists,  _ but  _ sunflowers represent loyalty and adoration, and it just seemed to represent the three of you...really well.”

Isabella smiled then, her eyes only a little watery. Clutching the canvas to her chest, she called, “Ferb! You have to see this!”

As she watched Ferb approach, Phineas couldn’t stop watching Django. He was relaxed but his chin was tilted up, obviously proud of his work. Phineas vaguely registered Ferb scooping up the trash from the wrapping before gently taking hold of the left side of the canvas. Isabella held the other, using her free hand to gesture over it. The small smile on his face showed he was pleased with the piece’s reception. He even nodded a little as Isabella repeated his comment about sunflowers.

Then his brown eyes met Phineas’s and, for just a second, Phineas couldn’t breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this, uh...the Django storyline kind of got away from me a little bit.


	12. Two Out of Three Ain't Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author remembers this was supposed to be the Ferb and Isabella show.
> 
> (Or, to be more precise: Phineas and Ferb come home from a tux-fitting to a living room full of bridesmaids. The girls have been drinking, but Ferb is the one loosening up.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that movie, huh?
> 
> This chapter involves a lot more cursing. Also, pretty much all your faves are Queer.

Ferb blinked as his brother grabbed his arm and tugged him over in front of the mirror. “I am under strict orders,” he said, and then he snapped the picture.

Phineas held it up for his approval. Scanning it quickly, he saw that Picture-Phineas was grinning just as widely as Real-Life-Phineas, his head tilted slightly towards his brother. Ferb had a raised eyebrow and a bemused smirk, but he must have been looking at the right spot in the mirror because his reflection was looking directly at the camera. They wore matching navy tuxedos with lavender bow-ties loose around their necks. Ferb nodded curtly before it occurred to him to ask, “Orders from whom?”

“Isabella, of course.” He didn’t look up as he tapped out something to accompany the image.

Of course.

Ferb pulled his own phone from his pocket and glared down at the screen, the little yellow icon staring mockingly back at him. He’d just downloaded it the other day, thinking she’d have more access to wifi than a calling plan when she went on her dig, but he had yet to make an account. He rolled his eyes at the voice in his head making accusatory chicken clucks at him. It sounded suspiciously like Isabella.

Should he…

“That was fast.”

He leaned over Phineas’s shoulder as he loaded the new message. What filled the screen was a selfie she had taken cheek to cheek with Django, both of them with the back of their hands pressed to their foreheads and their heads tipped back exaggeratedly. The caption read, “We SWOON.”

She was adorable.

He expected a chuckle out of Phineas at least, but he furrowed his brow instead. “Why’s Django at the paper?”

“They’re getting lunch,” Ferb said, thinking he’d just forgotten.

“Must have slipped her mind,” he mumbled.

Ferb blinked. Normally, Phineas was an open book but, just now, Ferb had no idea what he was thinking. He didn’t seem jealous or angry - not that he had a reason to be - but he did seem upset somehow.

Carefully, Ferb said, “The painting he did for her birthday was lovely.”

Phineas’s head snapped up, a grin spread across his face. “Wasn’t it, though? He was pretty great when we were kids, but he’s grown so much as an artist. Not that I know all that much about art, but I know good when I see it. Plus, he said this really funny thing at the party…”

He trailed off, shrugging sheepishly as Ferb raised an eyebrow at him.

“You kinda had to be there, I guess.”

Ferb felt like he was missing something, but it wasn’t the joke.

And whatever it was, it wasn’t the only thing. He’d also missed the memo that Candace was having her entire entourage of bridesmaids over at the house that evening. The first hint was the half-full bottle of champagne sweating on the kitchen island. Phineas paused to put a wine-stopper in it and wipe up the water ring while Ferb continued into the living room, swiping a sandwich from the tray of sliders on the counter. His mouth was full when he narrowly avoided colliding with Vanessa and her sloshing glass of champagne.

“Ferb!” She smirked and grabbed his arm to catch herself from stumbling. “Why’d you change out of the tux?”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Stacy, who seemed a little more sober. She shrugged. “Isabella showed us the picture Phineas sent. She made it her lockscreen.”

He hoped his smile said ‘that’s cute’ just indifferently enough, but he was sure it tipped over to ‘too fond’ when he heard her voice from across the room.

“For fucks’ sake Candace, if you can’t sit still for thirty more seconds, I  _ will  _ poke your eye out with this pencil.”

The pout was evident in his sister’s voice. “You said ‘thirty more seconds’ five minutes ago.”

“That was a goal, not a promise, but this is a promise, not a threat. Hold  _ still _ .”

“That still hasn’t gone away, huh?”

He glanced around to make sure no one else had heard her, but Stacy had joined Jenny by the sliding doors to work on some sort of craft. And Isabella, on the other side of the room, was completely focused on her work.

It was too late to worry about Vanessa knowing. Once he’d gotten a little older, they’d bonded over a similar taste in records and their mutual exasperation at Candace’s antics. She was a good friend and, honestly, had probably figured it out before he had. She shot him a sympathetic look.

“Hey-” she started, but they both heard Isabella tell Candace she was done, and whatever it was got pushed aside for later.

“Hi!” Coming up behind Vanessa, her eyes were red but her grin was so bright that Ferb’s breath caught in his throat. “I think there’s champagne left if you want to join us.”

“Ooh, drunk Ferb. That I have  _ got  _ to see,” Vanessa agreed.

“Good luck. Man knows his limits, and refuses to push them, despite me always telling him how much fun  _ I’m _ having.”

“I have fun enough,” he assured her. 

In response, she just stuck her tongue out at him. Vanessa laughed and asked, after another sip of champagne, “Who are you bringing to this shindig?”

He pursed his lips.

“Candace said dates are mandatory.”

Isabella laughed, and Ferb had to clench every muscle in his body not to be drawn into her, not to pull her into his chest. “She just said that so you’d  _ have  _ to bring Nikki.”

Ferb raised an eyebrow. “That’s serious, hmm?”

“Well,” she said, her tone casual but her face red. “What  _ is  _ serious, really?”

“I’m no expert.”

“Wow. Something Isabella-the-Fireside-Girl isn’t an expert in.”

“But I’d say,” she continued, ignoring her, “Living together constitutes serious.”

“Or she could just be my roommate.”

“Even your father didn’t buy that,” Ferb reminded her.

“Even  _ I  _ don’t buy that,” Phineas added as he entered the room and flopped into the armchair.

“Fine,” Vanessa conceded, rolling her eyes. “But if you assholes embarrass me, I will set the reception on fire.”

“I do know an expert firefighter,” he said with a wink, and Isabella giggled. He couldn’t help himself. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, feeling her sigh into his body. He almost went so far as to kiss the top of her head, but settled for pressing his nose to her hair.

“ _ Are  _ dates mandatory?” Phineas asked, sending him that smile that said he was up to something. “Because I bet Marissa would go with you if you asked.”

Isabella tensed then, just barely, and he rubbed her shoulder instinctively. Before he could decline, Candace seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“No!” she said, her finger just far enough from his face that he chose to allow it. “No dates. You mess with my seating chart, and you’re dead.”

“She can have Nikki’s seat.”

Candace glared, but it was Jenny to the rescue. “It’d be nice for Nora to know  _ somebody _ there who isn’t in the wedding.”

“Yeah,” Candace agreed. “That.” She cut between them to get into the kitchen.

“Bring your brother,” Vanessa said. 

Ferb knew her well enough to catch the sarcasm in her tone. Isabella probably did too but, lifting her head from Ferb’s shoulder, she said, “Django won’t be in Danville. He’s helping with freshman orientation, so he has to head back to school even earlier than I do.”

Phineas’s eyes were wide and his voice went up an octave. “You asked him?”

There it was again. The idea that he’d be jealous of  _ Django  _ of all people was ludicrous. Of course, trust Phineas to miss those signs as well. 

Isabella’s eyes were gentle but teasing. “We were talking about plans for the rest of the summer. He said he was going back to run a booth for the LGBTQ Center on campus.”

She was  _ brilliant  _ \- not that the hint helped Phineas. He still looked disturbed. Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“Boys always get jealous around the one month mark.”

Isabella gasped. “That’s right! We’ve been dating a month!”

That made Phineas laugh. “That’s all? We’ve gotten so much done!”

It took Ferb a minute to realize he was talking about the fact that they’d started dating the same day Candace and Jeremy announced their engagement. It had been a whirlwind, trying to get everything ready during such a short period, but when Ferb looked back at the last month, all of it was secondary to the week without Isabella that lasted forever, and all that time he’d made sure to spend with her since.

“Speaking of,” Vanessa said, passing her now empty glass to Ferb. “I want to see this DJ booth you built. Jeremy says it’s pretty wicked.”

That was all it took to get his brother out of the chair to lead Vanessa up the stairs. She glanced back to wink at him, disappearing behind a wall before he could even shake his head. It’s not like that, he wanted to say. He would never.

Despite pulling out of his arms, Isabella was gripping his hand. She’d never shied away from sharing physical affection with friends, but he knew it was different to him. He should let go. Why couldn’t he let go?

First his poker face and now his resolve. What piece of him was going to fall apart next?

He tried not to think too hard or too long on that question, but he knew he was at capacity this summer just keeping his heart from crumbling.

“How are you doing?” Isabella asked earnestly, and he was so lost that it took him a moment to figure out what she meant. He shook his head, smiling, to say he was fine.

“You sure?”

“Please, Bella. I grew out of that ages ago.”

She blinked slowly. “Come again?”

“We don’t  _ all  _ belong with our first crushes.”

Her jaw fell, just slightly, her full lips forming a perfect “o.” He focused on slowing his heart rate and banishing the memories of every dream he’d ever had of that face. It was just a red balloon all over again - trying so hard not to think about it just made him think about it more, made it impossible to ignore how he wanted to close that gap, wanted to press his lips to hers, wanted-

Well, that was the difference, wasn’t it? He’d been so young when he’d been interested in Vanessa, had liked her but hadn’t  _ wanted  _ anything. Then he grew up, and he’d wanted girls back in high school or women he’d seen on campus, but if it came down to it, if he was honest, he wanted  _ her  _ most of all. In fact, the only thing he wanted more was for her and Phineas to be happy. He just couldn’t have it both ways. 

He should probably check in, ask her how things were going, but the last thing he wanted to do just then was talk about his brother. And if he couldn’t have everything he wanted, he felt he should at least be able to avoid what he didn’t.

“I downloaded SnapChat,” he blurted instead.

Isabella licked her lip - god, she was going to be the death of him - and grinned. “Finally! You won’t regret it. I am  _ hilarious  _ on SnapChat.”

“You’re pretty hilarious in real life, so I don’t doubt it.”

“You really  _ are  _ terrible about flirting with me, aren’t you?”

He was watching her so closely, there was no way for him to miss it: the moment her shoulders tensed and her eyes widened, that she realized what she said and remembered how he pulled back the last time someone had accused him of flirting with her.

And maybe he should have but he also remembered how upset she’d been, saw the fear in her eyes that he’d do it again. If it was only his own heart he broke pushing her away, maybe he could handle it. But to hurt  _ her... _

Not bloody likely. 

“Well, you have a nasty habit of flirting back, so I’d say we’re even.”

It happened slowly, but her shoulders relaxed, then the crease in her forehead, then she smiled. Then she laughed. “I’ve had too much champagne. What’s your excuse, Mr. Fletcher?”

He swallowed, remembering the first time he’d seen Vanessa, remembering how distracted he’d been. Remembering how that feeling paled next to the way his heart lurched around his fearless, brilliant, beautiful Isabella. All this time, he’d been so careful. It was exhausting.

“I’m weak,” he admitted.

She giggled, thinking he was joking, but when she squeezed his hand, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback! I'm sorry I don't respond that often, but know I treasure all of it!
> 
> Also, did you catch the exact moment Isabella had an aneurysm? God, I love dramatic irony.


	13. The Third Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella spends some time thinking about what she wants, finally decides on a major...and wonders if she'll ever really get what she needs.
> 
> (Or...Isabella finally gets a turn on the Angst Train.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a smidge longer than the others, but I didn't think you'd mind.

With summer half over, and the wedding only a few weeks away, Isabella had been spending more and more time with Candace and the other bridesmaids. When Candace had asked her to take part, she’d briefly worried she wouldn’t get on as well with Stacy and Jenny as she did Candace and Vanessa, but every bridal event turned out to be, well...fun. Her  _ only  _ regret was how little time she was getting to spend with Phineas and Ferb; at least, compared to last summer, when she’d seen them every day.

It was with herculean restraint that she waited until after breakfast on her first completely free Saturday in weeks to enter into the Flynn-Fletcher kitchen. Ferb was alone at the table with the Danville Gazette at his elbow and the New York Times in his hands.

“Anything worth reading?”

He peeled the outer layer off and passed it to her. “Op-Ed.”

“Good?”

“Going to make you angry.”

She nodded as she sat next to him. As she started to read, Ferb made his way to the counter, bringing back a mug of tea for her. He was biting his lip as he sat back down.

“He’ll be down when he’s down,” she answered without looking up. “Besides...this is nice.”

He smiled at her before settling back into his reading. Isabella tried to do the same, but she found herself thoroughly distracted by the crease developing in Ferb’s forehead. He was gripping the edge of the page, his nose inching closer to the print in that way it did when he was completely engrossed. In just a minute, he was going to slide the page across the table to her and tape the headline to let her know she should read it next.

There it was.

Wordlessly, she put that page on top of her current one, but it didn’t hold her attention either. Usually, she had no problem sitting next to Ferb and reading for hours.  _ Apparently,  _ all it took was  _ one night  _ where she had a little too much champagne and he was a little more physically affectionate than usual for her brain to completely go off the rails.

She’d seen him since then, but never alone and never for very long. There’d always been something pulling them in different directions: he’d been mixing cake samples and she was practicing Candace’s updo. He was working with Jeremy on dance moves, she was talking Suzy through a teenage angst something. It had been frustrating, but also, a little bit a relief.

She knew she’d told Marissa it was just the way she was with Ferb, but...objectively, it really did look like flirting. She sighed. Ferb raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh,” she said. “I was just thinking...now that we got my car fixed, we should really race them. It’s been a while since we’ve had a good Isabella versus Ferb competition.”

“There’s a reason for that,” he said, his eyes not leaving the paper. She smirked. This she could handle.

“Because you’re a scaredy cat?”

“Because,” he corrected, looking up - and she almost wished he hadn’t, because she couldn’t quite comprehend what she saw there - “I prefer to be on your team.”

Her heart flipped over in her chest. It was a simple statement of fact, but it got Isabella thinking...really, when had Ferb  _ not  _ been on her side? Even when they were supposedly competing, he never begrudged her a victory.

Their eyes locked like magnets and she had to focus to keep inhaling - one, two - and exhaling - three, four - steadily.

“Hey,” Phineas, said, sliding into the dining room. Isabella knew immediately that something was up, because he rubbed the back of his neck and wouldn’t look them in the face. “I know today was supposed to be Phineas and Ferb and Isabella day, but Baljeet just called, and there’s a lecture at the museum on a new development in string theory…”

Isabella blinked, keeping her face as flat as her voice. “You’re going to ditch us.”

Phineas winced. “It's just that… It's the only day this is happening, so I can't just go another day."

"So you're going to ditch us," Ferb echoed.

"We could all go!" he said excitedly. "But the last time Isabella went to one of his lectures, you, uh...snored. Loudly."

"Ugh,  _ that  _ guy," Isabella groaned with a roll of her eyes. "Look, I am very smart, and I'm curious about everything. If you're bad enough to lose me…"

"He's brilliant!" Phineas protested.

"And a horrible public speaker! Pass. But you have fun."

"You're sure?"

She nodded.

"Ferb?"

He looked from him to Isabella and back before shaking his head and going back to his paper.

"But you're sure you don't mind…"

"Phineas," he and Isabella sighed simultaneously.

"Okay, okay," he said, hands up, before ambling back out the back door. "See ya later!"

Isabella shook her head, smiling fondly. "Your brother," she said.

Ferb didn’t respond in the usual way, just turned the page. Without looking at her, he asked, “How are things with you two?”

She bit her lip, trying and failing for the third time to comprehend the same line she'd been reading. “Good. Fine. I mean…” She really should have planned this, should start sowing the idea that she and Phineas were better off friends. She had, in fact, when Adyson asked the night before. But telling Ferb felt different somehow, like she’d personally failed. 

“Things aren’t all that different,” she answered finally.

“And...that’s how you want it?”

She could feel her face going red, thinking again of the conversation with Adyson, about how quickly she’d brought up the “romance” part of dating, asked Isabella if she was truly getting what she  _ needed _ . And how, when Adyson had asked, her mind hadn’t gone to the guy from her Russian class or the myriad of celebrities she’d swooned over during girls’ nights, and it certainly hadn’t gone to Phineas.

No, she’d thought immediately of warm hands with callused fingers and a British accent whispering in her ear.

She must have looked bothered because Adyson had chuckled. “I take it that’s a no. You’ve got to talk to him, sweetie. You deserve to get everything you want out of a relationship.”

“For now,” she said, looking up to meet Ferb’s eyes at last. “It’s working for now.”

He opened his mouth as if to ask a follow-up question but nodded instead. They were still reading when Candace shuffled in and emptied the coffee pot. Sitting across from them, she scrolled through her phone before saying, “Drat.” With their eyes on her, she added, “My bar results are supposed to come in any day now. It’s getting  _ real annoying  _ to wait.” She tapped out something on her screen. “Oh. And Buford’s outside.”

Standing up, he said, “He’s here to borrow tools.” He looked at Isabella, almost apologetic, until she smiled up at him.

“Tell him I said hi.”

He nodded, leaving her alone with Candace, who was staring intently at her phone. Isabella told herself she was being paranoid by reading into it. This was Candace. She wasn’t purposely avoiding her eyes; her nose was just  _ always  _ in her phone.

To break the silence, Isabella asked, “Can I ask your advice on something?”

“Is it about my brother? Please say no.”

Isabella felt her face turned red, then realized she probably meant  _ Phineas _ ...and felt even more embarrassed that she’d jumped to the opposite conclusion. “No, not that. It’s just...I don’t know what to do with my life.”

“Uh…” Candace looked even more uncomfortable. “I don’t think…”

“How did you work it out?”

She blinked, the panic passing. “Oh, that. I just...I wanted to be a lawyer.”

“But you could have been a pop star! You’re talented  _ and,  _ between your mother and Jeremy, you had the connections to do it too.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t want to be a pop star.”

“You did!”

“No, Isabella, I  _ thought  _ I wanted to be a pop star.” She rubbed her forehead. “Look, what’s your favorite thing to do?”

“Fix cars, I guess.”

“So why aren’t you working at an auto shop?”

She huffed. “Because I like working on the cars of people I  _ like _ . I don’t want to be that guy who told Mom her car was going to take a thousand bucks she didn’t have to fix. Or try to prove myself to a bunch of guys who don’t think I belong there.”

“You could open up your own shop.”

“But that doesn’t sound fun either! Managing a business?  _ So  _ not my thing.” She considered. Under her breath, she added, “I suppose, if Ferb wanted to take on that part, we could…”

“Look, Isabella: I love singing. But, thankfully, my mom was Lindana. We sat down and talked about everything that comes with it, and I didn’t want  _ those  _ things. So I went with my  _ second  _ favorite thing.” She smiled. “Proving I’m right. What’s _your_ second favorite thing?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed. She wanted to throw her hands in the air, wanted to pull her hair out, wanted to just  _ scream _ . “I like to try new things,” she said instead. “I like to meet new people and learn new skills. I like to travel and experience different cultures. And I like to-”

She cut herself off abruptly, as if her words hit a wall. “I...I like to do all those things. And then I like to go back to my room and sit at my desk and write about them.”

Candace smiled knowingly. “There you go. And now that you’ve seen how a newsroom runs?”

Isabella breathed slowly and deeply, barely believing that she was saying this. “I love it.” Her eyes were starting to sparkle. “I love it. Could I actually be a reporter?”

“Is it what you want?”

Her answer was breathless. “I...I think it is.”

With a wide grin, she pushed her seat back. “I have to go tell-”

She froze as Candace raised an eyebrow.

“I mean...Mom’s at work. And Phineas is at his lecture. But...Ferb’s here, so...I should go tell him.”

Candace blinked.

“And, you know...he’ll be excited. Not that Phineas  _ won’t  _ be. But he’ll be excited because I am, whereas Ferb...you know, he’s the reason I got the job in the first place.”

Candace took a sip from her mug. 

“And it’s a thing...a thing we’ve got in common. Because we both read them. So-”

Candace laughed. "Isabella, I literally said  _ nothing.  _ Go tell Ferb.”

She nodded once and headed out, pausing to grip the doorway and look back at the other woman. “You’re a really good lawyer, aren’t you?”

“Why, yes. Yes I am.”

She tried not to run outside, but the minute she hit the driveway, she called his name. He did what he always did: he checked her expression and then he matched it. Isabella was exuberant and so, Ferb grinned.

“I figured it out!” She was in front of him now, smiling widely. “I’m gonna major in journalism! Ferb, I’m gonna be a real reporter!”

It was hard to imagine his grin could get anyway wider but, somehow, it did. He said nothing, but squeezed her elbow and they stood there, heads bowed together. He didn’t have to say he was excited for her or proud of her. She just knew.

She told herself that was why she just had to tell him first - that she didn’t want a fuss, just wanted a moment to bask in the joy and peace of  _ finally  _ having an answer to the question that had been haunting her for months.

“Yo, what are you two chuckleheads so happy about?”

Moment over.

She turned to Buford as Ferb let her go. “I was just telling Ferb that I decided to major in journalism.”

Buford rolled his eyes and huffed, “Finally,” before opening the door to his truck and climbing in. After rummaging in the back, he emerged with a large pink gift bag. “Happy birthday.”

She blinked and considered reminding him that her birthday was two weeks ago, but she was already looking in the bag. It held two frames. She peered into the bag just long enough to figure out what they were.

“This...this is the Fireside Girl Gazette.”

“Yep.”

“And the Danville Gazette.”

“Yep.”

“From the day I was born?”

“Would you believe it was easier to get a hold of an old Fireside Girls issue than the Danville one?”

“Well yeah.” Isabella shrugged. “The Fireside Girls Gazette Archives are immaculate. Last summer, I-” She cut herself off with a laugh. “Oh, wow! I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.”

“I can.”

Isabella raised an eyebrow. 

“Come on, Pink. You’ve been syndicated since we were ten. You were on Yearbook  _ and  _ the paper in high school. You’ve always been  _ good _ . But nobody took your writing all that seriously so you only ever figured it was supposed to be a hobby. Being a writer didn’t seem like something you could  _ do _ .”

Ferb was squinting, looking between Isabella and Buford as if to decide if he should intervene.

“Sometimes,” Buford continued, “I think you’re so used to being the girl who can get anything she wants that you decide you don’t want something if it’s out of reach.”

“That’s not true,” she said, but her voice sounded hollow. “I’ve wanted difficult things,” she tried again.

“Not for  _ you _ .”

She wanted to protest, but...he was right, wasn’t he? Breaking the record for most Fireside Girl patches earned? Totally achievable, if she was willing to work for it. Youngest Varsity Soccer Captain in State history? Between her leadership skills and her soccer prowess, she was a shoo-in. Even the internship at the paper - she’d applied assuming it was coffee-fetching and phone-answering, knowing she was massively overqualified. And back when she  _ had  _ been crushing on Phineas, despite how often she’d gotten discouraged, she never really doubted that he’d come around. Because Ferb said so. If Ferb, who knew Phineas better than anyone else, said it, it must be true. And when she’d stopped wanting Phineas, when she’d started to realize…

Well. She never let herself finish that thought, did she?

She felt a warm, firm hand rest comfortingly on her back and she couldn’t stop herself. She flinched. She was staring directly at the framed paper but her watery eyes couldn’t make out the headline. She couldn’t bring herself to look at either of them, but Ferb must have been glaring at Buford, because he said, “Cool it, Union Jack, I’m getting to the point.”

“There’s a point?” She hated how broken she sounded just then.

“Please. You could kick my ass. You think I’d pick on you for no reason?” Softer, he said, “Isabella, look at me.”

Without lifting her head, she met his eyes, which had turned surprisingly gentle. “You are still the girl who can have anything you want, but you have to let yourself  _ want _ it first.”

She swallowed, and swiped at a tear threatening to fall. “Nobody gets  _ everything _ they want, Buford. That’s not how the world works.”

“Damn. Must suck for all the not-Isabella Garcia-Shapiros in the world, huh?”

She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at that, at how wrong he was. Because Ferb spent the last decade or so picturing her with Phineas, which meant he would never see her as anything but his friend or potential sister-in-law. She couldn’t  _ want  _ that away.

And maybe, if wanting was all it was, it wouldn’t be so scary, but Ferb was already so integral to her life that the moment she let herself want, she was sure it would tip the scale over to  _ need _ . Then where would she be?

“I can help you hang those,” he said. “If you like.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but...I’m gonna put them up at school. Catching up will probably be a bitch, so…” She swallowed, finally looking up at him and doing her best to smile. “It’ll be nice to have the inspiration.”

His bright eyes were shaded in concern and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. She already needed him, and damn, did that make wanting him that much scarier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all got the last chapter so quickly because I was SO excited about this chapter. So I hope you love it as much as I do! As for the NEXT chapter, I know what needs to happen, but not...what needs to happen, so thanks for being patient as I figure it out!


	14. Silence and Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has taken Phineas his entire life to become accustomed to silence and he has found that, mostly, his brother is right. Silence is lovely. But there are still some silences he doesn't know what to do with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hanukkah!
> 
> Not a lot happens in this chapter, but Isabella needs some time to process and some conversations need to start happening.
> 
> Also, this installment took so dang long because I've been really anxious about whether or not the timeline is right, and then I remembered I'm writing a story about a show that is set during 104 days of summer vacation that is WAY longer than 104 days, so I've decided not to worry about it and just follow my heart.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

The silence was deafening, and this was Phineas talking. Phineas, who spent upwards of eighty percent of his waking hours with a brother who was known to say a sentence or less in a day.

He had spent enough time with silence to know there are three types, and each warranted a different reaction. There was a basic silence, one that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, simply there, waiting to be filled. Phineas was very good at filling those, capable of blathering on about anything from a project he’d been working on to a fun fact he’d learned recently. Then you had your companionable silences, peaceful stretches of air you could wrap around you like a quilt. He used these to turn in on himself and just think, or maybe work, and whoever he was with just let him. He didn’t have to feel self-conscious or vigilant about his surroundings. He could just be, completely absorbed in his own head or task with no repercussions.

It had taken him a while to grow to appreciate those kinds of silences, and he only settled into them with certain people, the people he trusted. 

The third kind of silence was the worst. Sitting in it with those people he trusted, the ones who made the second silence lovely, made it a little more bearable. He still hated it, but he didn’t feel the need to crawl out of his skin.

This was that kind, the tense kind, the kind where the very air felt charged. He never knew what to do with these. If it had been someone else, he would just bite his tongue, afraid poking it with words would cause something to explode.

But this was Isabella. This kind of silence always meant something was wrong, and the fact that it was Isabella meant it was worth getting to the bottom of.

“So…” he started, staring straight ahead at the TV. “How’s work?”

She had a full bowl of popcorn in her lap despite the credits rolling. “Fine.”

He nodded, glancing at her for just a second before turning back. “And bridesmaid stuff?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Biting his lip, he scrolled through his phone without actually looking at anything.

“When do you find out if you get to do that sports feature?”

“Marissa and I are going to do it together, actually.”

“Oh.” So that wasn’t it. “Cool.”

The silence creeped back in, the only sound the theme song as a new episode of Space Adventures started. Phineas took a deep breath. Even back when she and Ferb were fighting, earlier in the summer, she’d still talked to him.

“It’s soon, right?”

“Week and a half.”

He flushed with relief when he saw Ferb at the top of the stairs. He was the master - he’d know what to say, or smooth things over so they didn’t have to say anything.

He paused on the last step, pointing to the kitchen and raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, man, I’m good. Isabella?”

But when he looked over for her answer, she looked even more tense than before, shuffling in her seat and refusing to look him in the eyes. “Actually…” she said, drawing the word out. “I should probably head home. You know...work and all.”

“Oh,” Phineas said, glancing to Ferb, whose furrowed brow revealed he was just as confused. “Okay. But you’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Of course,” she said, but it had a false airiness to it. She brushed a hair behind her air. “See you then.”

And then it was just Phineas and Ferb basking in the glow of the TV. 

“Dude,” Phineas said finally. “You two aren’t fighting again, are you?”

“If we are,” he said, his hand gripping the banister, his words deliberately enunciated, “She hasn’t informed me.”

Even if he hadn’t been inclined to take him at his word - and his brother was less likely to outright lie to him than to simply obfuscate - the look on his face confirmed he was as lost as Phineas himself was.

Weird.

Isabella was in a much better mood when she showed up the next day, and Ferb looked as relieved as Phineas felt. He could see it in the looseness of his shoulders, the fluidity in his movements as he stirred the pan on the stove.

“Sorry,” Isabella said, under her breath so that Phineas, in the archway between living room and kitchen, was the only one to hear her. “That I was so weird yesterday. I’ve been working through some things and it’s...kind of getting to me.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Friendly reminder that you don’t always have to be in a good mood, but I am here if you want to talk about it.”

Her grin wasn’t quite radiant, but it was wide and Phineas felt it warm something deep in his chest. “I know. I appreciate it.” She swallowed, considering. “The big thing, I think...I just need to sit with it for a minute.”

With a nod, he pulled his hand away.

“Speaking of though...let’s talk about Django.”

What he almost said was, “Let’s not.” But he swallowed it because...he did kind of want to. And it wasn’t like he could tell Ferb. He glanced across the room, but his brother was entirely absorbed in his cooking with the vent fan running overhead. He likely wouldn’t hear.

“What about him?”

“You really should ask him to hang out.”

“Isn’t that a little...weird.”

“Only if you make it weird.”

He gave her a look, and she covered her mouth in that way she did when she was trying not to laugh out loud. Biting her thumb but unable to hide the glee in her eyes, she said, “Is it weird when you ask Buford or Baljeet to hang out?”

He blinked twice. “...valid point.”

“If you aren’t comfortable doing it alone, we could all hang out. Ooh! Invite him to the party after the Tournament!”

“We’re not having a party after the Tournament.”

“We’re not?” She pursed her lips. “We should be. I mean, I certainly deserve a reward for all my hard work, don’t you think?”

Phineas laughed. “Okay, okay - let’s talk to Ferb about it. If he says yes, let’s do it.” Biting his lip, he added, “But, uh...you ask him.” He cleared his throat. “Please.”

“Sure,” she said softly, smiling assuringly. Louder, she said, “Ferb, that smells absolutely divine.”

He shot a smile at her over his shoulder, one Phineas couldn’t quite read. The one Isabella sent him as she crossed the room seemed to match it.

“So…” She pushed herself up on her tiptoes, peering over his shoulder. “Whatcha makin’?”

Ferb chuckled, a low rumbling sound that came straight from his chest. “Korean galbi rib roast with braised bok choy.”

Isabella sank back into her heels. Phineas couldn’t see her face, but he saw her weight shift, her head tilt. “That’s my favorite.”

He nodded once.

For a moment, there was silence again, this one crackling, this one waiting. The sudden swell of affection he felt for his brother made his heart hurt. He knew Ferb, was intimately familiar with his patterns. He hadn’t been planning to cook tonight, had been perfectly happy to let it be their mother’s turn. But he’d disappeared this morning before Phineas was even dressed and came back with a bag of groceries, telling Mom he’d take care of it. Now here he was, making Isbella’s favorite because she’d been upset the night before.

Whereas Phineas was prone to outbursts, to “our friends are the coolest” and “you’re amazing” and “dude, I love you so freaking much, you don’t even know,” Ferb was more likely to act out his I love yous. How well and thoroughly he did it was just part of what made him incredible.

There was something else though, a moment when Isabella seemed unsure of what to do with this gesture. But though it felt much longer, it was only a second and then Isabella’s entire being lit up.

“You spoil me, Ferbian Fletcher. Be careful, or I just might move in.”

“Just be patient,” Phineas said, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wooden trim. “Bet we can talk him into cooking every night when we get our own place.”

There was a pause as both pairs of shoulders tensed, but Ferb’s relaxed almost immediately.

“Most nights, probably,” he said slowly. “If I’m not too far away.” 

Phineas furrowed his brow, walking closer and then hoisting himself up onto the only clear bit of counter space. Ferb rolled his eyes. He stuck his tongue out at him. “Are we not all getting a house together after we graduate? We’ve only been talking about it since we were fourteen.”

Ferb raised an eyebrow, stirring the pan with a wooden spoon as he appraised his brother. Briefly, they both looked to Isabella, who was doing her best not to look either of them in the eyes.

“What he means is,” she started, and Phineas knew the set of her chin too, knew it was the way she looked when she had something to say and she wasn’t sure how it would be received but she was damn well going to say it anyway. “If he is forced to cook even once, he will burn the whole house down. So it sounds like you’re stuck with us.”

For the first time, Ferb’s stirring stopped. If Phineas hadn’t known them his entire life, the way he was looking at Isabella would have convinced him that Ferb was seeing her for the first time.

“Unless there’s somewhere else you’d rather be,” she finished.

He definitely got that look he had when trying to solve a particularly perplexing problem, and then like he knew what he should say but wasn’t sure if he should actually say it. It wasn’t a look he got often and, if he hadn’t seemed so earnest, Phineas might have laughed. Is that really such a tough question? He wanted to ask.

“No,” he said finally, definitively. “I think not.”

Isabella grinned then closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and ending with a pleased sigh. “That is excellent news, because I could get used to this. And it’s even kosher. Well,” she corrected herself. “Would be, if it was cooked in a kosher kitchen.”

And just like that, Ferb was confused again. “You don’t keep kosher.”

“No,” she agreed. “I’ve been thinking about it though.”

"Wait a second. How can a kitchen be kosher?”

“It has to be blessed by a rabbi,” she said. “Otherwise, even if you follow all the rules, nothing you cook in the kitchen is considered kosher. Which is why I’m not sure I want to do it. It would be pretty difficult.” She paused, considering her words. “I mean: eating is such a communal activity, you know? Choosing to go kosher would mean forging a lot of social events, even dinners here with you guys, and...if it’s about what I want more, I’d rather have that.”

Ferb nodded, understanding.

“We would work with you though,” Phineas said. “If that’s what you wanted.”

Ferb agreed.

“I know,” she said. “And I appreciate it. It’s not like it’s an option right now anyway. The dining hall definitely isn’t, and I don’t know any spots near campus that are, so I at least have to wait until after graduation. Plus, I’d have to give up most of my favorite Mexican dishes, so there’s that.” She shrugged. “Just thinking about it. Putting together a mental list of things I could still eat and places I could still go. That sort of thing.”

She bit her lip and looked up at Ferb through her lashes. “But if we’re all going to live together, I wouldn’t want to stifle your creativity or anything.”

It was an innocuous statement, but something about her tone, both hesitant and heavy, tied Phineas’s stomach in knots. It relaxed when Ferb answered.

“Studies show that constraints actually have a positive impact on creativity.”

Isabella glowed now. “Good then.”

“Good,” Ferb agreed.

The silence settled over him like a warm blanket and Phineas, satisfied, let it be.


	15. Me and My Bro, Taking Care of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a simple day, one reminiscent of all those summer afternoons when Phineas and Ferb pulled off something magnificent in the backyard. But they aren't kids any more, and some things are surprisingly difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: Everything is going to be okay.
> 
> Just...not in this chapter.

Staring up at his ceiling now, the moonlight streaming through the window just enough to throw bars of shadows over it all, it occurred to Ferb that he didn't know how to fight with his brother. They had disagreed before, but never like this.

Not that they ever fought with anyone else either. Ferb had heard Phineas yell maybe three times in his life, much more likely to shrug and let a subject drop than confront someone about it. Captain-of-the-Debate-Team Ferb loved a good, heated argument, but if it was something important enough for him to _actually_ get angry, that person probably wasn't contributing enough to his life to justify their continued existence in it. If it had been anyone but Phineas...

He sighed.

The day started fine - well, even. After spending three-fourths of the summer doing their own things, only working together for wedding stuff, they'd set this Saturday aside for a Phineas-and-Ferb special. They were up all night perfecting blueprints for a ferris wheel twice as tall as the London Eye. They'd invited the old gang to help put it together. Someone had hung posters all around Danville so that, by the time they were done, the backyard was packed with people expecting the time of their lives.

"All right!" Phineas cried, clapping his hands together with a grin as Ferb tightened one last bolt. "Who wants to go first?"

Naturally, every hand shot into the air. Something had been building inside him all day and here, on this wooden platform across from his brother, separated from a cheering crowd by a couple of steps, it threatened to spill out of him. Phineas felt it too, ignoring the crowd and meeting Ferb's eyes with pride shining in his own. His brother was glowing and Ferb could feel the comforting warmth of it all the way to his toes. The only way this afternoon could get better was - he broke away to look into the expectant crowd, but no. She wasn't there yet.

When he turned back to face his brother, he was also facing the crowd, his gaze oddly unwavering. Ferb followed it, wondering if he'd somehow missed Isabella after all, but it was Django on the end of it. He was leaning forward, his weight in the balls of his feet, and swaying slightly so his hand waved in the air.

And the next thing, the next moment, seemed to happen in slow motion, and then a montage rushed, all at once. Phineas, calling Django's name. Phineas, pulling the lap bar up and waving him towards the seat. Django, taking those two steps up and into their bubble. Django, asking with a smile that made it clear he wasn't being serious, if it was safe. Phineas, chuckling nervously, stammering that of course it was, as he slid into the seat himself, patting the cushion next to him. Django, sitting, laughing, pulling down on the lap bar.

It clicked into place and so did the truth in Ferb's mind. The last time he'd seen his brother look like that - the sparkle in his eyes, the blush in his cheeks that didn't quite fade until it reached his neck - was high school, that one time he at a school dance he had almost, kind of, mostly flirted with Marissa.

The basket rose as Ferb's stomach sank. He felt acid building up in his throat and swallowed it down. This was Phineas. Oblivious Phineas. He hadn't been lying when he said he would never hurt Isabella on purpose. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing.

Ferb took a deep breath. He'd talk to him. He'd fix it. As long as he could keep Isabella from seeing it first.

He jumped when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Marissa smiled at him for just a second, her eyes flitting to the ferris wheel. "Amazing," she breathed.

He swallowed, gesturing towards the steps. A line was forming, impeccably organized by Gretchen and her clipboard. 

"I wasn't planning to stick around," she said with a shrug. "Just dropping this off. Unless you need someone to ride with."

He shook his head. Like a trainwreck, he found it hard to stop watching his brother and Django, despite the fact that their car had tipped just high enough that all he could make out were the soles of their sneakers.

"Can you give this to Isabella for me?"

His eyes snapped back down to her hand and the manilla folder she was holding.

"You're welcome to stay," he reminded her, enunciating each word gingerly, worried they wouldn't come out right if he didn't focus on each syllable. "She'll be here any moment. You can give it to her yourself."

"Nah. Shit to do." Even as he took hold of it, she continued to grasp the other side. "But I'll...see you around?"

He nodded.

"The Night of the Falling Stars dance, maybe?"

He nodded again. She grinned as she let go and pulled her phone out. "Cool. What's your number? I'll text you."

He rattled it off, pretty sure he got the order correct, and waved absent-mindedly as she made her way out of the gate. As focused as he was on the wheel turning, he only saw her leave from the corner of his eye, and then his gaze snapped across the yard to the sliding door into their living room. He sucked a breath in through his teeth and tried to keep his pace and heart rate steady as he crossed the yard to her. He'd never seen her look so pale, so small, her eyes dull and lips parted.

"Bella..."

She shook her head, not like she was responding to him but like there was something lodged in there she was desperate to knock loose. When she smiled, he knew it wasn't real. "You guys did great work," she said, but her voice was as hollow as the grin.

He held out his free hand and jerked his head towards the crowd, hoping to pull her in where she belonged. Instead, she reached towards the folder he held.

"Isabella."

"Sorry. I know I was supposed to hang out, but..." She bit her lip, not meeting his eyes. Clutching the folder to her chest, she said, "I should get started on this."

"Of course," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow for-"

But she was already gone.

It took every inch of his British decorum and American steel not to snatch Phineas from the cheering crowd as soon as he dismounted from the ferris wheel, to wait until it was just the two of them at the base of their tree, basking in the sunset.

He wished he could settle into the even like Phineas was, leaning back against the tree, his head propped against his folded arms. Even with his eyes closed, he looked satisfied, like he'd both accomplished and released something. Ferb almost hated to disturb him, but when he tried to close his eyes, he just saw Isabella, crest-fallen. He called his name.

"Yeah, bro?"

"About Django..."

"He's cool, right? It's nice to have him in the group this summer."

"Just...be careful."

Phineas opened his eyes. He didn't tense, exactly, but he was looking at him quizzically and a little cautiously. "What are you talking about?"

"You know. Don't spend so much time with him that you neglect other people."

Ferb was good enough at reading his brother to realize he was less cautious now and more confused, but not what he'd been worried about in the first place. "Like _who_?"

He sighed, exasperated. Was he going to be this oblivious for the rest of their lives? It was exhausting. "Isabella?"

"Oh." He closed his eyes, relaxing once again. "I'm not. I see her as much as I can. She's just really busy this summer, you know that."

It might have been the nonchalance that broke him, but it was more likely the look on Isabella's face that was no permanently seared into his memory. All tact flew out the window and his next words surprised them both.

"Doesn't mean you should flirt with other people."

Phineas's blue eyes shot open as he sat straight up. "What are you talking about?"

Ferb blinked slowly and then drew out, "Django?"

Conversely, his brother blinked several time in quick succession, gaping like a fish. "I'm not- I wasn't-"

"I know you probably didn't mean to, but it really upset Isabella."

Panic flashed in his eyes at last and Ferb released a breath, sure they were on even footing again.

"Did she tell you that?"

"She didn't have to. She-"

"Right," Phineas interrupted. He rolled his eyes. "Because you know everything."

Ferb felt like he'd been punched in the gut. His brother pushed himself up onto his feet and brushed the dirt from his hands onto his shorts. Then he spun around, his hands clenching in front of him but not quite fists. "I can't believe you're-"

Ferb was up now, holding his hands in front of him in supplication. "I'm not taking sides. I only meant-"

"Of course you're not taking sides," Phineas yelled, throwing his arms wide. "There are no sides! You're the only one who thinks there are."

Ferb swallowed now, keeping his voice even. "I don't want Isabella to get hurt."

"And I say again: you really think _I'm_ going to hurt her?"

How had they gotten here? Why wouldn't he listen to reason? "I know you don't mean to! But if you had seen her face..."

"Did you ask what it was about?"

Ferb bit his tongue, which was answer enough. Phineas chuckled sardonically, a cold sound that felt wrong coming out of his brother.

"So because _she_ was upset, you just...assumed I did something wrong."

"I saw you with Django."

"And?"

" _And_?" he demanded. "And I know you, Phineas! I know you haven't had a lot of crushes, but this is how you are when you have one. It's exactly how you were with Marissa."

Phineas's arms fell slackly to his sides and he looked genuinely surprised. "I had a crush on Marissa?"

 _Exhausting_.

"Yes! And you spoke of her constantly, completely oblivious to the fact that Isabella was _right there_ and she had a crush on _you_."

"Well..." He scratched the back of his neck, clearly lost, but it only lasted a moment. "Well, I'm not oblivious now, because I actually listen to her."

"Phineas-"

"And not for nothing," he said, his anger now reigned in to a calm coolness Ferb recognized in himself, which was somehow more frightening than the screaming. "But I gotta ask: this whole time you were conspiring to get me to fall in love with Isabella, did it ever _once_ occur to you to ask what _I_ wanted?"

Ferb took a long, deep breath but said nothing. For once, it was just a choice of keeping his thoughts to himself. He genuinely didn't have an answer - or at least, not one he could live with.

All he wanted was for _both_ of his favorite people to be happy. Why was it so goddamn hard?

He didn't know how long they were standing like that, but the oranges had bled out of the sky and left only a soft violet. The porch light came on. The back door slid open.

"Hey boys! Dinner's-"

"Not hungry," Phineas grumbled, tearing his glare away from Ferb and making his way inside. Their mother's eyes followed him, concerned, before turning back.

"Ferb?" Her voice was soft. He breathed out and shook his head, eyes fixed on the grass beneath his feet. He wasn't watching, but she must have stood there a long minute, because it took longer than expected to hear the door slide closed. The sky deepened into a rich purple but the porchlight cast his shadow crookedly against the lawn.

Tugging the door open seemed to take all his strength. The living room light was off, but his parents and sister were still chatting in the dining room. He ignored them and dragged himself up the stairwell by the railing. Phineas usually slept with his door open, but it was closed now, a strip of light underneath the only sign of live inside. He considered knocking, but what was the point? What was he supposed to say? That Phineas wasn't _wrong_ but neither was he?

His stomach churned at the thought, and he didn't imagine it would sit any better with his brother. Closing his own door, he trudged over to the bed and ran his hands through his hair. Bone-weary, he crashed down into his mattress and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about this story for a while. Then I wrote what would have been the end of it, a one-shot assuming I'd written the rest of it, hoping that I could forget about it. But the more I wrote that one, the more I wanted to know how Isabella's fake relationship turned into a real one with someone else. So...here we go. Hope you enjoy it.


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